


The Dead Don't Keep Secrets

by boombashkas



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Ghosts AU, I'll add characters as I go along I guess, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Past Character Death, Trauma, dead bodies, first time writing Will, ghostwhisperers au, let's hope it turns out okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boombashkas/pseuds/boombashkas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with a nightmare.</p><p>Nico sees things he's not supposed to. Will hears voices he shouldn't be able to. Both of them agree they're insane, so obviously the only logical solution is for them to team up and share their complete madness with each other. After all, it's only dead people. What could really go wrong?</p><p>(In which Nico and Will are ghost whisperers, the dead are really gloomy clients, and yes, everything goes wrong.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Fifteen hours before Nico di Angelo unearths a dead body in an abandoned old house with the help of an increasingly attractive boy from school, he’s having a nightmare.

Well, it’s actually a memory but one that’s so distorted and that he’s had so many times, he can’t call to mind the actual event without the nightmare ruining it anymore.

He’s eight years old, the world is bigger and brighter, and grown-ups are the enemy. Bianca doesn’t count as a grown-up, thankfully. She’s ten – only three years away from being a teenager, as she always reminds him – and the fact of it is, in his eyes, almost as cool as his sister.

That day, Bianca’s archery tutor can’t come to teach her so she decides to go shoot a few by herself and eventually lets Nico tag along. They head to the archery range their father is getting built for her and Nico is given the responsibility of holding the quiver and carefully handing her the arrows when she asks for them. She gives him express instructions to not randomly toddle in front of her bow but Nico won’t do that, of course. He’s only eight but he’s not an idiot and he’s seen enough to know that arrows can kill you, although he doesn’t know if blunt arrows like Bianca’s count.

She stands tall, draws in a deep breath and exhales it slowly as she shoots. She talks in between shooting but it’s all an intelligible mumble in Nico’s nightmare. She shoots once, twice, three times, and then, as usual, it happens on the fourth arrow.

She shoots and it doesn’t fly to the target at the other end of the archery range. A man – tall, thin, pale and dressed in plaid – is standing halfway down the range. He stumbles backwards as the arrow thunks with a thick, wet sound right in the middle of his chest. 

Every muscle in Nico’s body freezes up – and Nico is one hundred percent sure it happens to him while he’s sleeping in real life too – as the man raises his head slowly, ever so slowly, up. And he doesn’t look at Bianca. 

His gaze lands directly at Nico, dark, cold and accusing – and Nico would scream if he could draw in a breath.

Bianca moves. She casually walks back to Nico while the man behind her glares and glares at him. She holds out her hand and Nico stares at it, waiting for her to ask for an arrow like he knows he will. But she doesn’t, and when he looks up, the man – the _dead_ man – is standing directly behind her, close enough she should feel his non-existent breathing against her head, and now it’s not one pair of dark eyes glaring at him, it’s two, and Bianca isn’t ten anymore, she’s twelve, and somehow Nico seems to have shrunk even smaller than eight years old so that she looms over him as she grabs his wrist tight enough to bruise.

She moves her mouth to speak but the words and her lips are out of sync. 

“Why,” she hisses at him, and it feels like the bones in his wrist snap, “don’t you ever _listen_?”

He opens his mouth to whimper out an apology but then the dead man standing behind Bianca reaches right through her and grabs for him. Suddenly, she isn’t there anymore, and it’s just him and the dead-not-dead man holding onto Nico’s wrist – no, not his wrist, his _pulse_ – like the world depends on it.

He backs Nico up into a corner and as Nico watches, the man starts to decompose, layers of flesh and skin curling off of him so he’s just a husk of himself, and still his grip is like iron around Nico’s wrist. His eyes get bigger and bigger in his head, somehow managing to look completely dead and glassy and terrifyingly panicked at the same time. His cheeks cave in, his lips cracking and peeling, but despite the utter terror flooding through Nico’s veins, he can’t bring himself to even try to move away because it’s as plain as the arrow sticking through the man’s chest that he’s trying desperately hard to tell Nico something.

And then, at the same moment Nico’s lungs start working again and he pulls in a breath, so does the dead man. He leans in, looking just as terrified as Nico is, and opens his mouth. No sound comes out – absolutely nothing – but the message is painted clearly by the fear in his eyes: _help._

Nico wakes up with a scream stuck in his throat and his eyes stinging with tears. He goes to sleep an hour later, rubbing at his wrist.

~*~

If Bianca appearing to him in his nightmare like that ruined his night for him, Hazel waking him up in the morning – drawing back his curtains, telling him to get up and at ‘em – sort of makes up for it.

Right up until she makes fun of the Danny Phantom theme song alarm on his phone.

“You’re the one who set it in the first place!” he shouts after her as she practically skips out of his room, calling over her shoulder to get ready or he’s going to make them late for school.

His legs are still a bit wobbly when he gets up, so he has to steady himself against his nightstand. When he does, his eyes snag on his wrist and he feels a phantom ache at his pulse point, where the dead man had pressed down hard with his fingers, like he wanted to push the beat of his pulse right out of his body.

There’s not much energy left in his body after that depressing episode, so he goes through the motions of getting ready without paying attention to anything. When he goes to close his closet door and sees a dark figure standing behind his reflection in the mirror, he just rolls his eyes and whines, “I haven’t even had a breakfast yet – can’t you guys wait a while before hounding me?” 

The dark figure just stands there with its head down, which is unusual because mostly they look Nico right in the eye, but he really doesn’t care right now.

There’s another one waiting outside his bedroom door and yet another one he picks up as he goes down the stairs. When he sits down to have breakfast with Hazel and their father, there’s about six more people gathered behind his chair, staring at him urgently. Some of them even make a grab for him but of course, their hands just pass through him harmlessly. Nico used to not be able to decide if they can’t touch him because they’re not real or because they’re just ghosts. 

Now he goes for the first option – which, of course, means there’s something wrong with his brain to make him hallucinate these things every day of his life, but it’s a much more acceptable answer than them being actual dead people. Sure, he’s gloomy sometimes but not enough to see the _dead_. He doesn’t even like _The Sixth Sense_.

One of the main reasons he’s sure it’s all in his head is because you _have_ to be crazy to seriously consider the thought of you being able to see dead people.

During the walk to school, Hazel nudges Nico with her elbow.

“How come you’re so quiet?” she asks. “Something happen?”

There’s a whole platoon of dead people floating behind them now, occasionally popping out from behind trees and mail boxes just to freak Nico out – and she’s asking him if something happened.

“I had the same nightmare last night,” Nico explains.

Hazel glances at him worriedly. “The one with Bianca? That makes sense – I mean, why you’re so glum today. But don’t worry, it’s just a nightmare.”

The ghost that wouldn’t look him in the eye in his bedroom is standing across the street, staring down at the ground. Nico narrows his eyes. “Yeah but dreams have meaning and stuff too, don’t they? And I’ve gotten this one so many times, it has to mean something.”

“Nico, I’ve had that one dream of Percy and Jason marrying each other and adopting a pumpkin as a baby – that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“Well, you don’t know that. I always _did_ think there was something going on between them, and you have to admit that everyone’s going crazy for pumpkin babies these days.”

Hazel laughs and then loops her arm in Nico’s. “You’ll be okay,” she says.

“I’m not so sure,” Nico says, craning his head to see the ghost as they round the corner, “But I’ll try.”

~*~

Nico doesn’t have a lot of friends in his own grade but it’s better than a few years ago, when he didn’t have friends at all. He and Hazel actually share the same group of friends but they’re closer to different people in that group. 

_A bit too close sometimes_ , Nico thinks, when Jason bounds up to him as he’s closing his locker, gives him a huge bear hug without warning and cries, “Hey, Nico!” with a happy puppy dog smile on his face.

“Why,” Nico grunts, “are you acting like we haven’t seen each other in years?”

Jason glances at Hazel, who’s busy talking to Frank and Piper, and says in a low voice, “Hazel told me you had the nightmare again. You okay?”

“Well, yeah, it was just a nightmare. What’s the ghost going to do, jump out and hurt me in the real world?”

Jason frowns. “Ghost? What ghost?”

Nico blinks. Goddammit, he always forgets that he’s only told his friends the Bianca part of the dream. They don’t know about the dead man.

“Uh, Bianca was a, uh, ghost in the dream this time.”

“What, really?” Jason says, looking pleasantly surprised. 

“Yeah, so?” Nico shrugs.

“Well, dreams are supposed to mean stuff, aren’t they? And if she’s coming to you as a ghost, that means that you’ve already accepted the fact that…”

“Wow, Jason, I would _love_ to talk to you about this highly idiotic subject some more,” Nico loudly interrupts, clapping his hands on his ears, “but I’ve suddenly remembered that I have a class to go to, so you’re going to have to stop talking right – about – _now_.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Nicely handled, Nico, real smooth,” he grins, turning to the rest of the group, “I’ll see you later.” 

Before Nico can leave, he turns back around, does this stupid thing where he ruffles Nico’s hair all friendly-like and then walks away without even apologizing for touching Nico’s hair without his permission. Jerk.

Nico weaves between people, calling out “Excuse me” and “Sorry” whenever he bumps into someone, which is like every other second. He’s almost reached his classroom when he feels a presence towards his left, between him and the wall, and stops in his tracks.

Usually he shrugs off these so-called ‘ghosts’ and goes on with his life. He’s been seeing them for as long as he can remember and even though it’s crossed his mind once or twice that he should probably tell someone that he’s seeing things, he really doesn’t want to – after all, it’s not like they’re harming him in any way, so he can live with it, just like he has been for the past fourteen years. And besides, he knows once the label of ‘crazy’ is slapped on him, it’s never coming off, and he’s been trying to shed his labels for a long time – he’s not ready for a new one.

But this one seems so much more urgent than the others he’s met. They all seem helpless and panicked, turning to Nico like he can help them, but this one – he can actually feel the purpose rolling off of him in waves. It’s not threatening, though. It’s almost like it’s begging Nico to give him a chance to show him something important and, unlike all the other figures Nico’s come across in his life, this one might actually even do it.

Nico turns to see it pressed against the wall, and it’s the same one from before, staring down at its feet. Slowly, ever so slowly, it raises its head, and it reminds him so fiercely of the dead man in his dream that fear spikes through him – 

_Why don’t you ever_ listen _?_

– but before the thing can raise its head and fix him with its soulless eyes, someone crashes Nico. He would almost _fly_ the other way if the person hadn’t steadied him.

It’s weird how absolute terror at seeing a dead husk of a man can be replaced so quickly by complete annoyance at almost being knocked over, but that’s just how Nico works. Being short doesn’t mean people can trample all over him.

To his credit, the guy does apologize. “Oh, God, are you okay?” he says, eyes wide, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

“Obviously,” Nico grumbles, fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Watch where you’re going.”

“I know, I just…” the guy trails off, and then rubs at his temples. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been looking.”

Nico frowns. He doesn’t know the guy by name but he’s seen him around school a lot and they share similar groups of friends, so he thinks feeling concerned for him isn’t too weird, seeing as how he’s not a complete stranger. And he looks like crap too – hair unbrushed, eyes bloodshot and bags underneath his eyes big enough to rival Nico’s – so it’s justified.

“Are _you_ okay?” Nico asks.

The guy, who had been rubbing at his eyes, peeks at Nico from between his knuckles, looking surprised, and then gives him a quick once-over – something that Nico doesn’t miss. “Uh,” he says, “Yeah, I’m fine, I just – late night.”

Nico stifles the urge to roll his eyes. Of course. A guy who looks like _that_ must have a lot of late nights. Meanwhile, _Nico_ can’t go to sleep because he’s being tortured by his sister and dead guy in his nightmares. It’s amazing how much his life sucks.

The guy suddenly winces hard and grabs at his temples again, and for a split second Nico’s worried he’s having a migraine or something. Before he can do anything to help him, the boy grunts out, “Oh no,” and hurries away. Hopefully to the nurse’s office.

Nico watches him leave and then, steeling himself, turns back to look at the ghost. But it’s disappeared. There’s nothing there but a wall painted a cheery peach color.

He supposes he should feel relieved but he doesn’t – he feels cheated. The ghost should’ve at least stuck around for a little while. It’s not like he wasn’t paying attention to it – it was all that guy’s fault. For the first time, he might have been able to communicate or talk to these ghosts – hallucinations, whatever.

This one was different from the rest, he could tell. Sure, it was just terrifying when he was face-to-face with it but… Nico’s curiosity has always been a lot more powerful than his fear and it seems to him like this time, it might carry him through.

Nico’s been ignoring them his whole life but he’s going to try to listen, just this once. He hopes the ghost comes back. Somehow, he knows it will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so  
> I thought I would try a little solangelo and I think it's going well so far? If you guys thought this was really glum compared to that one jasico bananas fic I wrote then, yeah it's meant to be like that, at least for now (Nico's situation isn't exactly a happy one, as you may have noticed). This fic, as I've planned it, is going to be kind of dark but, knowing me, it probably won't turn out that way.  
> I'll try to update on a weekly basis but no promises. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this! Kudos, comments etc are appreciated


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of suicide ahead

There’s not a lot of things that make Will want to bang his head against a hard surface for days on end. When his mother makes that disappointed face at him, sure. When Lou Ellen won’t stop making puns, definitely. His father telling him Will can get into med school with no hassle at all because he can pull strings for him is right on the top of the list. 

A random voice constantly begging and pleading in his head non-stop for hours, though – that’s what really gets to him.

It’s a man’s voice, hoarse and heartbroken and, after a whole sleepless of having it echo im his head, really incredibly annoying as well. Usually, a voice gives up after an hour or so and Will goes on with his life. If it gets especially aggravating, he can always whistle to make them shut up. 

But this voice – the croaks chafe against his brain, the sobs slamming at his temples, the constant _please please please_ wringing out a high-pitched howl in his ears that never dies away. It all amounts to the most intense headache Will has ever gotten. He wants to crack his skull open and scoop out his brains but he’s not entirely sure that would help.

The guy starts talking around ten the night before, as Will’s getting ready to go to bed. A short whistle shuts him up for a while – Will will never understand how that even works – but then he comes back full force and doesn’t shut up for _ages_ , no matter how much Will whistles. And that’s never _not_ worked before so Will has no idea what to do other than to make like an ostrich and bury his head in the ground. The guy only takes an hour or two off his incessant whining to relax his vocal cords some – precious time that Will uses to beg every and any deity he can think of to please keep that voice out of his head. He even Googles a few while he’s at it, which of course spirals into him playing games on his computer at two in the morning, but that doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that he has a trigonometry test the next day, he’s almost failing his class, and his skull won’t stop thumping. By the time he’s supposed to get ready for school, his head feels hot and heavy, his eyes are drooping watering, but he’s not going to fail the stupid class (his mother will sic her disappointed look at him if he does, and he _cannot_ deal with that right now).

Now, hunched over his test and trying to concentrate, Will realizes he might as well have not come to school. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do for any of the questions. Maybe if there wasn’t a disembodied voice rolling around his head…

_Please, if you would just listen – you’re one of the only people that can help me. Please, I can’t leave unless it’s done, you have to help –_

Blah blah blah, this is always how it starts. Will has no idea where the voices in his head came from, but he knows they all want him to _do things_ for him and if he’s learned anything from TV, it’s _not_ to listen to the voices inside your head. Especially if they claim to be the souls of dead people, which is just. Highly concerning. He’s 99.9% sure he’s completely insane (the 0.1% was because he likes to think he’s optimistic that way). In fact, he hadn’t even realized that other people didn’t hear random voices all the time until his mother had had him hospitalized for talking to himself when he was four. 

He’d been so happy to get to go to the hospital. Most kids cried and screamed and threw tantrums, mainly because they thought they were going to get shots or something equally horrifying – and even though Will did do the exact same thing sometimes (seeing as how he was as mature as a, you know, four-year-old), mostly he liked hospitals. All the doctors and nurses were so nice and answered all the random questions he asked them, no matter how stupid they were. They even let him play with a few of the instruments, even letting him sit in on examinations of other patients if he asked nicely.

It was also where he got to see his father, who he only saw once a month at the most. It wasn’t until he was older that he realized that the doctors and nurses were all so nice to him because his father worked alongside – and above – some of them. He used to be become extremely excited about seeing him each time his mother took him to the hospital. Not so much anymore.

That one time, though, his mother didn’t take him to his usual doctor – she took him straight to his father, without him even asking her once. It was suspicious but four-year-old Will didn’t care. 

His father asked him a few questions about the whole talking-to-himself shtick and Will, in all his innocence (or stupidity, depending on how nice you want to be to toddler Will), told him about the voices. By the time he was taken to a psychiatrist, though, he caught on that this was something serious, especially because of how worried his parents looked. 

He never talked about the voices again and eventually, everyone shrugged the whole incident off as him ‘talking to imaginary friends’. Which wasn’t entirely untrue but like they say, with imaginary friends like these, who needs imaginary enemies? (Or something.)

The guy is still sobbing and begging inside Will’s mind and Will’s about five seconds away from tearing his hair right out of his scalp when the his paper is yanked out from under his hands. He gapes up at his teacher, who just taps his watch to let Will know that time’s up, before moving on to the next person.

Will lets out a groan and drops his head to his desk. He’s not the only one. Apparently, this test didn’t go well for anyone at all – and they didn’t have a stupid whiner stupidly whining in his head all the time. Stupid.

Someone jabs his side. He moves his head enough to see Lou Ellen squinting worriedly at him. “You okay?” she asks.

He lets out another groan in reply.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad. We even did the second question together during study group last Thursday, remember?”

He groans again. “I have a headache and I want to die.”

“Not one of your migraines again?” Lou Ellen frowns. “Go to the nurse’s office then.”

“What, so she can put a band-aid on my forehead and tell me I’m good to go?”

“Well, what do you want to do then?”

“I told you. I want to die.”

“Whoa, man, suicide is not the answer,” a familiar voice says behind him. The person’s even thumping their foot against his chair. There’s only one guy who does that, and he’s about to lose a foot.

“I told you to ask Annabeth to tutor you,” Percy says, “She’s the reason I’m even passing this class.”

“All you guys do during your ‘study sessions’ is make out anyway. Why would I want to be there for that? And would you _please_ stop kicking my chair?”

“He’s having one of his headaches again,” Lou Ellen explains to Percy, “So he’s grumpy today.”

Will’s about to say something smart and witty like “Am not” when the voice, which had subsided a bit, explodes to full volume. It’s like someone’s blasting out heavy metal mixed with cars screeching and metal clanging, except the speakers are inside head.

_PLEASE JUST GO TO THE HOUSE JUST GO AND DIG UP THE FLOORBOARDS AND YOU’LL FIND PROOF YOU’LL FIND EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO DO IT AND TAKE THE BOY –_

Lou Ellen and Percy are crouching next to him, matching worried expressions on their faces, while his teacher stands by uncertainly and everyone else stares at him like he’s crazy. This is exactly what he didn’t want.

_– YOU’RE THE ONLY ONES WHO CAN DO THIS FOR ME THE ONLY ONES I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU FOR HOURS AND HOURS AND YOU HAVEN’T BEEN LISTENING –_

“Will, you need to go to the nurse’s office,” Lou Ellen says, but he can barely hear her over the ringing in his head, “Percy, come on, help me…”

_– IF YOU WOULD JUST LISTEN TO ME YOU AREN’T LISTENING YOU HAVE TO HELP ME PLEASE YOU HAVE TO –_

_Fine! I’ll do it! Just_ shut up _!_

And just like that, like he’s flipped a switch, the voice stops.

Will opens his eyes, not remembering when he closed them. He isn’t in the classroom anymore – it’s just him and Lou Ellen, who’s leading him in the direction of the nurse’s office while looking him over worriedly.

When she sees he’s opened his eyes, she stops and puts her hands on his shoulders. “Will,” she says carefully, quietly, “what happened?”

He slumps against a wall and rubs at his temples. “Migraine, just a migraine,” he mutters.

“Do you need me to take you to…?”

“No, it’s fine, I think the worst of it passed,” he says, smiling to prove his point. “I’m fine, see?”

She doesn’t look convinced. “Just like that? You were in pain like five seconds ago.”

“Yeah, migraines work like that sometimes,” Will tells her, rubbing at his eyes and trying for a believable smile. “They just come and go without warning.” At least science is on his side.

“I’m pretty sure they don’t.”

“Which one of us is would know more about that?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh, just because you read all those medical journals and stuff…”

“Come on, look at me,” he raises his hands. “I’m fine. Besides, like I said, the nurse won’t do anything.”

She bites her lip. “Yeah, but… Your headaches are never as bad as that. You should really get that checked.”

Somehow, even though the voice has shut up, he can feel it floating silently in the back of his head, waiting for him. “Look,” he says, “tell you what. I’ll go home, okay? I’ll get Mom to call my dad – we’ll ask him if it’s anything serious. He’ll be able to help me better than the nurse, right?”

Lou Ellen’s still frowning but she nods. “Right. That sounds okay.”

“Okay then,” Will beams at her. “You can go back to class now, I’ll get home by myself.”

She doesn’t move.

He gives her a little push. “Shoo. Go on, good girl.”

She sighs heavily and bats his hand away. “Fine. But text me once you get home, okay?”

“Promise,” Will says, still grinning. It’s actually starting to hurt his cheeks a little bit. “You can go now.”

She moves forward and gives him a big hug while Will rolls his eyes. He knows his ‘migraines’ scare her a lot, almost as much as his mother, so he pats her on the head – she bats his hand away again – and tells her it’ll be okay. Giving him one last worried look, she nods and walks back down the hallway. 

Will waits until she’s out of sight to run out of the building and to a private place where there won’t be anyone to look at him weird when they see him talking to himself. 

There’s people milling about on the opposite end of the school grounds, people moving in and out of buildings, but no one close to where he’s standing, thank God. Just in case, he takes out his phone, puts his earphones in and places the speaker close to his mouth so if someone does see him, they’ll assume he’s taking a call.

“Okay,” he mutters, leaning against the school building. “Tell me why I should take orders from something that’s just a voice in my head and nothing more.”

_I’m not! Please, if you would just listen – I’m real and I need your help –_

Will snorts, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know why he’s so agitated. “That’s what all the voices say. _We’re real dead people, you have to help us_ – do you honestly expect me to believe I’m talking to an actual ghost inside my own head?”

_Yes, it’s true! You keep ignoring me but if you gave me a chance, I could show you –_

“Show me what? You’re in my own head. I’m talking to myself, like a crazy person. I’m not going to do what you tell me.”

_But I could show you something! It will be proof._

“Proof of what?”

_That I’m real, that everything you hear is real. All you have to do is talk to a boy and then the two of you can see the proof for yourselves._

A boy. Will perks up at that. “Is it a cute boy?”

_What?_

“Never mind. What boy do I have to talk to? And why?”

_He’ll explain everything, you’ll see. He’s just like you!_

Will sighs, letting his head fall back against the wall. “So he’s not cute. _And_ he’s crazy.”

_Please, just talk to him. Once you do, I’ll tell you what the proof is._

“Talk to him and say what, exactly?”

The voice pulls in a deep breath – he can actually hear it, feel the air rushing inside his own lungs. He shivers.

_Tell him you can hear a person in your head, the same person he’s been seeing since this morning. Tell him I know that he’s been trying to talk to me but he can’t, only you can. Tell him I’m dead and that I need both of you to help me set things right._

Wow. Even the voice in his head is insane. How did he manage to do that? He’s actually a little proud of himself.

_Will you do it?_

Well, he’s got nothing to lose. Except he’ll look like an idiot in front of this guy, whoever he is, but plenty of people think he’s an idiot. What’s one more? He’ll probably never see or talk to the guy ever again. 

And, of course, there’s the possibility that this – all the stuff going on in his head – is real. He’s entertained the thought before, when he’s lying in bed at night or contemplating his life while in the bathroom, that he can actually hear dead people. It sounds ridiculous as soon as he thinks about it but… if it really is real, that would mean there’s nothing wrong with his head. As much as he jokes about being crazy, of course he’s worried that he actually is. But if all of this turns out to be true…

Well, he’ll know for one that ghosts are real. And he’ll know he can talk to them. And that there’s a (possibly friendly and attractive, let’s be optimistic here) boy that can talk to them too. Most importantly, though, it’ll mean there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s normal, your average Joe. Of course, average Joes can’t talk to ghosts, but everyone has their quirks, right?

_Will you?_

The man’s voice is horribly hoarse, like he’s spent his whole life screaming. Will wonders how he dies, and then wonders how he’s already begun to accept that this is an actual dead person.

“One question,” he says, “Where will I find this guy? He could be on the other side of the planet for all I know.”

_He’s not. He goes to this school. You know him, you’ve talked to him._

Will’s eyes widen and he stands up straight, heart going into overdrive with pure disbelief. Instantly, he starts scrolling through the list of guys he knows in his head. 

One of them – he can’t believe it, but one of them is just like him. There’s been someone with exactly his same problem who he’s met, talked to, befriended, probably had lunch with and classes with a million times – and he doesn’t even know. They’re both in the same boat and they never told each other. 

He could be his best friend, his enemy or someone he barely talks to – but he goes to this school and he takes these classes and he hears what Will’s been hearing his whole life and _Will doesn’t even know._

“Who?” he whispers.

There’s silence at first. 

Then: _That one. The one coming out of that building over there – in the dark clothes. He’s the one._

Will keeps his eyes fixed on the ground for a heartbeat longer. Then he lifts his gaze and sees him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I forgot to mention this last time:  
> This fic isn't beta'ed, which is really, really obvious and sadly, my first choice for beta can't do it. If any of you wonderful people want to give it a go, tell me so in the comments and we'll talk on tumblr. It'll be a huge help and improve the fic a lot. Thanks!  
> (Also, this early update is because next few updates will be late. Sorry about that.)


	3. Chapter 3

It can’t be a coincidence.

The last time Nico saw this one particular ghost, he ran into this guy too. And when he sees it now, the guy is standing right next to it, gaping at Nico like he’s never seen an angsty hallucinating fourteen-year-old boy who wears too much black before.

Nico is bone tired so all he wants to do is find Hazel and walk home but he doesn’t know if the ghost will follow him back or if he’ll ever get a chance to try and talk to it again. Not to mention, the guy has been staring at him for at least a full minute by now and Nico really wants to know what his problem is. 

The decision’s cemented once the guy raises his hand and waves Nico over. When Nico gives him a weird look, the boy tries for a smile.

Or, at least, Nico _thinks_ he’s trying to smile at him. Looks more like his face is spasming. It reminds him of all the times Percy would awkwardly smile at him for weeks after Nico confessed his crush to him. Nico doesn’t know who came up with this constipated a smile but he thinks he should thank them for having found a way to make attractive boys just that little bit less attractive.

The guy still has that horrible smile on his face once Nico comes to a stop next to him. He tries to match his face to a name but he draws a blank, even though he’s seen him in school a million times. It takes all of his willpower not to look at the ghost standing _right beside_ the boy, but he manages to sneak one long look.

The figure is almost as tall as the boy and encased in dark browns and black, like he’s taken a bath in mud and soot. He has its hands clenched in fists at its sides and his head bowed, staring at his feet – the only reason Nico’s calling it a ‘he’ anyway is because it looks like one, but the figure keeps blurring and becoming faint every few seconds, as if it’s dissolving into thin air, and it makes it hard for Nico to concentrate. He can’t remember if this happens with all the others too. Really, he has nothing to go on as a reference, because he never focuses on any of them for this long, just glances at them from the corner of his eye and tries not to think about it too much.

The ghost starts to smudge against the air again, so Nico turns back to the gaping boy. “What,” he says.

The boy blinks, awkward smile _finally_ drooping. “Uh, hi.”

Nico raises his eyebrows. “Hi. You waved me over?”

Blondie shoves his hands into his jeans and nods. “Yeah, I did. You’re Hazel Levesque’s brother, right?”

Nico’s called _Hazel Levesque’s brother_ around school more than he’s actually called by his name. He supposes he should be glad his sister’s so well-known around school (and that they’ve finally stopped calling him _Bianca di Angelo’s brother_ ) but he _does_ have a name. It’s not even that hard to remember, it’s only four letters.

“Yeah I am,” Nico replies, trying to ignore the urge to abandon this mind-numbingly boring conversation in favor of talking to the ghost. “I don’t know where she is, if that’s what you want to ask. I’d give you her number but if she hasn’t already given it to you, there’s probably a reason why.”

But the guy’s already shaking his head. “No, I don’t want to talk to her,” he says. “Sorry, let me just – what’s your name again? Starts with an L, right? Uh, Liam?”

“Close. It’s Nico.”

The guy laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m not good with names. I’m Will,” he sticks out his hand for Nico to shake.

The name clicks in Nico’s head. “Right, Will Solace,” Nico nods. “Percy and Annabeth mentioned you once or twice.” Or a dozen times. He’s apparently a great friend to the, but then again, everyone’s a great friend to Percy and Annabeth. Will Solace’s hand is big and callused and disgustingly clammy around Nico’s. He knows it’d be rude to wipe his hand on his jeans after shaking someone else’s but he just barely suppresses the urge.

“We ran into each other earlier today, if you don’t remember,” Nico continues, “Looked like you were having a serious headache. Are you okay?”

Will winces. “Well, not exactly but that actually brings me to my point. I know we’ve never talked before and this is kind of awkward but there’s something fairly urgent I need to talk to you about.”

“Well, whatever it is, can’t this wait until tomorrow? I’m really tired, I would just like to go home now.”

“No, I don’t think it _can_ wait,” Will says. Panic seeps into his face and he steps forward right into Nico’s personal space. “There’s something you need to know.”

Nico resists the urge to take a step back. Will Solace smells faintly of vanilla, which is nice, but the niceness is overshadowed by the slightly demented look in his eyes. But at least if he tries something suspicious, Nico’s height gives him the advantage of being able to knee him squarely in the balls, so he’s not worried much. “What?” he asks.

Will goes to put his hands on Nico’s shoulders but stops halfway, so that they’re just hovering weirdly above him. “This might sound crazy,” he starts, and yes, it already does, “But I… I hear stuff.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “I would be concerned if you didn’t hear stuff. That’s what your ears are for, you know.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Will says quickly. “I hear voices. Like, in my head. And you can hear them too, can’t you?”

Nico stares at him, trying to tell if he’s pulling his leg. But the guy seems completely earnest (and even more completely insane) so Nico’s a split second away from bringing his knee up when he opens his mouth again.

“Wait, you…” Will frowns. “You can’t hear them? You can just _see_ them?”

Nico freezes, his blood turning to ice water in his veins. Will’s staring off into the distance with his head tilted, as if he’s trying to listen to something.

“Is that true?” he asks Nico, his eyes shockingly blue. “You can _see_ the dead people – and I can _hear_ them?”

It feels like all the warmth has drained out of his body. He can feel the cold radiating off his fingertips and it’s almost as if the ghost gravitates to it, standing right next to the two of them, towering over Nico – and Nico can’t help but stare at it now. He doesn’t even try to look away. 

And apparently the ghost must be thinking something similar because with no drum roll at all, it raises its head and meets Nico’s eyes. Nico isn’t sure what he was expecting – probably either large black soulless holes or two white lights burning with the force of the sun – but this seems right: just two watery grey eyes staring sadly at him out of that distorted face. Even when the rest of him blurs, the eyes stay in focus, but the only thing even vaguely disconcerting about them is how bleached the irises are, almost as white as the rest of his eyeball.

Then the ghost shifts its gaze so that it’s looking directly at Will. Nico gets the message loud and clear.

He turns to Will. “Tell me everything,” he says.

~*~

In the entire course of his life, there was one person Nico ever truly considered telling his Deep Dark Secret to. It was Bianca, and he was six years old, the time when he first started to realize that he should probably tell someone how different he was from everyone around him. He figured it was a really responsible thing to do and like Bianca always said, he was a big boy now and had to learn to be more responsible. 

He was all psyched-up and ready to tell her, actually a little excited about it too. He even had proof in case she asked – there was a little girl in a long blood-splattered dress who liked to hide behind Bianca’s dressing table. She waved at Nico when he was in the room and sometimes Nico thought he even saw her smile, but whenever he tried to look at her face properly, she seemed to bleed into the air around her. That was fine with Nico but he worried if those rusted old stapler pins criss-crossing the side of her face still hurt. 

He walked into her room with all the confidence six-year-old Nico possessed, jumping up and down like he did when he needed to go to the bathroom. He expected Bianca would be watching cartoons or playing with her dolls, but he found her hunched in the middle of her bed, her legs pressed to her chest and her face buried in her knees. That was concerning enough, but his father sitting there next to her, looking lost and worried and patting helplessly at her head, softly talking to her, made Nico forget all about the ghostly little girl waving at him from behind Bianca’s dresser.

Neither of them noticed him sliding into the room. Bianca sniffled and rubbed her eyes into her knees. Nico caught the tail-end of his father’s sentence: “… but I can come if you want me to.”

“No,” Bianca replied, her voice muffled. “There’s not supposed to be any boys there.”

“But I’m not a boy, am I?” her father replied, “I don’t think they’d mind if a dad comes along.”

Bianca shook her head. “It’s just for girls, Dad,” she said quietly, “And their moms.”

She pressed even closer into herself and Nico watched as his dad floundered around, unsure of what to do. The little girl crawled out from underneath Bianca’s dresser and crept close to her, but when she reached out to touch Bianca’s hand, her own hand dissolved into the air. Nico knew that would happen – it happened every time he tried to touch her. She turned to him and he thought she might have given him one of her blurry smiles, but he could never be sure.

“Nico?”

Nico looked up at his father’s startled face. Bianca lifted her head. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her eyes red and puffy, and as soon as she saw Nico, she ducked her head and started wiping at her face.

“Nico, what are you doing here?” his father said, worry lines etched deep into his face. “Go back to your room, son.”

Nico glanced at Bianca, who gave him a weak smile. Now that her head was lifted, he could see what she had squeezed against her chest. It was a picture frame and even though he couldn’t see the front, he would bet a million bucks it was a photo of their mother.

“It’s fine, Nico,” Bianca said. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

His father nodded, motioning for Nico to leave. “You sure?” Nico asked Bianca.

Bianca smiled. “I promise,” she said. 

She looked like she wanted to cry some more but wasn’t doing it just because he was in the room, so Nico left, the ghostly girl in tow, smiling at him and walking at his heels. 

She cried that night. Nico could hear her on the other side of the wall, and he was sure he was the only one who could, seeing as how their father slept on the other side of the hallway. It wasn’t until he saw the ghost girl wiping imaginary tears of off Bianca’s face the next day at breakfast that he realized that she’d probably listened to Bianca crying for longer. It was weird. He hadn’t thought dead people would care so much.

Bianca never kept her promise, though he really couldn’t blame her. And if Nico was honest, he never really got the urge to tell her his secret ever again. He got enough chances to talk to her about it but he never carried through with it, and it wasn’t until he grew older that he realized why that was. 

Somewhere along the way, he started to realize that seeing these so-called ghosts wasn’t normal. There was something wrong with his brain, something that was making him see things that weren’t there. But it was something that wasn’t hurting him or anybody else, so he had no reason to tell anyone about it, no reason to make Bianca worry. 

Whenever he thought about it in the years to come – whenever it even crossed his mind – he’d remember eight-year-old Bianca sitting hunched on her bed, wiping at her tears and giving him a smile, just to make him think everything was okay. She’d been protecting him her whole life and he figured he could do this one little thing to return the favor. 

It was the right thing to do. Responsible, even. And like Bianca always said, he had to learn to be more responsible.

~*~

It feels like a load off his chest. The two of them perch on top of a low wall behind the school buildings where there’s hardly anyone, and they talk, and his shoulders feel lighter with every word he says. When Will doesn’t look at him like he’s crazy, when he starts agreeing and sharing all the things he hears, Nico feels something like hope. Maybe he’s not crazy after all. Maybe this boy he’s never talked to before knows what it’s like.

For some reason, as soon as he’s done talking, he thinks of Bianca. The only person he’d ever really wanted to tell all these things to, the only person he would have trusted with them, was his sister – and he ends up telling them to a guy he’s known for all of fifteen minutes. It’s ridiculously anti-climatic, not to mention – in what world does this boy compare to Bianca?

The dark ghost lingers around them the whole time they’re talking, sometimes moving out of Nico’s view, but always there. For the first time in as long as Nico can remember, he doesn’t have to ignore it or stifle the urge to look the ghost up and down as much as he wants. When his gaze wanders to the ghost, he lets it – and watches as Will follows his line of sight and looks almost grumpy when he can’t see anything. 

Once their secrets have been spread out before them, there’s a lull in the conversation, during which Nico stares at the ghost and Will tries to see what he’s staring at. Finally, Nico says, “You know, I always thought, if I was going to tell this stuff to someone, it’d be my sister.”

He’s not sure why he tells Will that, but Will just nods and says. “Oh.”

“What about you?”

Will shifts where he’s sitting a bit, his legs dangling off the edge of the wall. His sneakers scrape the ground beneath, something that Nico’s stubby legs won’t allow him to accomplish. “I’m not sure,” he says, “My mom or Lou Ellen I suppose, they’re the ones I think deserve to know the most.”

“Your _mom_?” Nico raises an eyebrow.

To his surprise, Will actually blushes. “ _And_ my best friend,” he says quickly, “ _You_ want to tell your _sister_ , that’s lame too, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Nico says, unable to fight off a grin.

“Although Hazel’s pretty cool so,” Will amends, “I can see why you’d want to tell her. It’s actually surprising you haven’t.” He looks at Nico curiously from the corner of his eye. “Does anyone know?”

“No one. Except you, I guess.”

“Yeah, no one knows about me either. They’d think I was completely crazy. My father would probably throw me into the nearest psychiatric facility the first chance he got.”

“There’s a story behind that, huh,” Nico comments, because Will practically spits out the words.

“Yeah,” Will grumbles. “He and I aren’t exactly…” He breaks off, bending at the waist so low that Nico has to grab him so he won’t topple from the wall – not that it helps, the guy weighs a ton more than him. He clutches at his head, groaning, eyes squeezed tightly shut and a vein throbbing in his forehead.

Nico looks around to see the ghost standing on the ground below them, except now the ghost’s mouth is moving at a rapid pace, so quickly that his whole face blurs.

“Oh my god,” Will groans, his mouth pressed to Nico’s leg, and that would be doing certain _things_ to Nico if his mind wasn’t so preoccupied with all this seeing-dead-people crap, “This is the loudest – how is he even –“

“What’s going on?” Nico asks, trying to drag Will up, “What’s he saying?”

Instead of answering, Will pulls himself up, puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out the most shrill and high-pitched whistle Nico has ever heard in his life. It pierces through his head so sharply, he has to cover his ears – but that’s nothing compared to what happens to the ghost.

All at once, its mouth snaps shut and its dark blurry mass goes from swirling almost gently in the air to vibrating and spasming around at an alarmingly fast rate. Before Nico can even blink, the ghost seems to disintegrate – something halfway between collapsing into itself or dissolving into nothingness. The last thing Nico registers before it disappears is that it had its hands clapped on its ears too.

He’s been seeing these things since he was a baby and he’s never seen anything like this. He keeps staring at the now empty space for a while and then turns back to Will.

He’s still flushed and seems pissed, but he’s obviously recovered. “What was that?” Nico asks.

“A whistle. Gets rid of them. Temporarily, anyway. Thanks for your help, by the way. Don’t know how I could make him shut up without your help.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, excuse me? What exactly could I have done?” 

“I don’t know, but you can _see_ them. Can’t you just, like, karate chop them into non-existence or something?”

“Are you seriously asking me why I didn’t have the courtesy to kill a _ghost_ for you?”

“Still could’ve told it to shut up,” Will grumbles.

Nico rolls his eyes. “If you’re done being a baby…”

“ _You’re_ a baby,” Will mutters.

“…what was so important that the ghost was _screaming_ it at you?”

“The same thing it’s been screaming at me since like eleven last night,” Will says. He scrubs a hand through his hair, practically scratching at his scalp like Jason does, except he doesn’t have short cropped hair like Jason’s and by the time he’s done, his hair looks like a bird’s nesting in it – which doesn’t sound attractive at all and _shouldn’t_ be attractive either. “He’s actually been talking a lot the past few minutes. Guy’s got a whole back story and everything.”

“And what would that be?” Nico asks.

“He says the whole reason the two of us even met is because he could tell we could see-slash-hear him, and he knows we’re the only ones who can help him so he brought us together,” Will answers. “And then he was going on and on about how he led me to you so we could help him, not sit on this wall and…” he cuts his sentence off and looks away from Nico, the tips of his ears turning red. Nico narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Well, basically he says that he needs us to right a wrong – and he’ll show us how to do it.”

“And why does he think we’ll help him?”

Will gapes at him. “Dude. He’s been screaming in my head since last night. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

“Uh. No?”

“Well, _of course not,_ you got the better end of the deal. Meanwhile I’m stuck here with a bullhorn installed in my head and every ghost that passes by apparently decides they can just walk up and use it to tell me their sob stories.”

“So you want to help him so he’ll shut up – not just for the sake of helping him?”

Will blinks. “Well, yeah, that too,” he says quickly. “But this is kind of a priority for me, you know? I can’t live like this much longer. I think I’ll go crazy – if I haven’t already,” he adds.

“And what if you have?” Nico says, finally voicing the one fear he has right now. “What if we’re both just two crazy people agreeing on our delusions and thinking they’re real? What then?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Will shakes his head. “Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy, after all.”

“Still, you have to wonder.”

“Yeah, I know. But our ghostly friend has us covered in that area.”

Nico frowns. “Huh?”

“He says that all we have to do is follow his instructions to go to this one place. Apparently there’s something there that we have to see. He says that if it does end up where he says it is, then obviously he’s not a figment of our imaginations or whatever.”

“That’s debatable logic,” Nico says, “But what thing are you talking about?”

“Hell if I know.”

“What, you never asked?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m best friends with him. I don’t want to be able to talk to him in the first place.”

“You’d think once you found out you could hear dead people, you’d listen to them.”

“You can see dead people, do _you_ watch them?” Will folds his arms.

Dammit. He has a point. (And very nice arms.) “Fine,” Nico huffs. “Do you at least know where this place is?”

“Yes,” Will sighs, “He’s been repeating it over and over in my head for the past fifteen minutes. He’s still doing it now.”

“Uh, he’s not here.” The entire school grounds were devoid of people, living or dead.

“Maybe not physically,” Will answers, “But trust me, he’s there.”

There’s a lot of things Nico’s learnt over the past few hours that should have bowled him right over with shock and surprise, but for some reason, this is the one thing that catches him off-guard. Maybe because some part of him always wondered – and maybe even knew – that the things he was seeing were real. And it even makes sense that he shouldn’t be the only one in the world, so Will Solace the Ghost Whisperer doesn’t faze him much either. But being able to tell when these _things_ are around him – either by seeing them or sensing their presence around him – has been something Nico’s never doubted. It’s almost an insult. All those precious moments he was all by his lonesome with no dead people to bother him, and he might not have been alone at all.

And really, this is the only thing Nico can do that other people can’t – regardless of the fact that it might very well be just his imagination. He always thought he was a little special, at least in this aspect.

Now, as it turns out, Will Solace is _more_ special. Who the hell does he think he is?

“Nico? You’re muttering to yourself.”

Will’s standing on the ground beneath Nico and he _still_ reaches Nico’s chest. He’s got a sunny smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “So you ready?”

Nico peers at him warily. What were they even talking about before? “Ready for what?”

“For our field trip, _Nico_ ,” Will says, rolling his eyes in the most exaggerated manner ever. “I don’t know about you but I’m really curious about this whole ghost business. I want to see it through and that probably won’t be possible without you. So what do you say, partner? You wanna do it?”

Hazel will probably have walked home with Piper or Frank or someone. She hasn’t called, which means she isn’t worried. And it’s not like Nico had any plans for today – all he was going to do was eat cereal and watch Netflix, which he can bump up to tomorrow.

And he’s not going to lie – this has been the most eventful thing that has happened to him all month, and Nico has a pretty eventful life, what with the whole seeing-ghosts-at-the-corner-of-every-street thing. He’s actually excited and it has very little to do with the somewhat attractive boy in front of him.

“Okay,” Nico says, hopping off of the wall and glaring at nothing and no one in particular when their height differences become painfully apparent. “On one condition. You’re never going to call me ‘partner’ ever again.”

Will just grins at Nico as he slings his book bag onto his shoulder. “Whatever you say, _Nico_ ,” he replies. Nico gets the vague feeling he’s being teased but he doesn’t care either way – there are much bigger things on his mind.

“Alright then, _Will_ ,” he replies, “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, guys! Probably won't be an update next week either but after that, I'll try to be regular I guess. Let me know what you thought about this one (and if you caught the extremely vague Tripping Over You reference)!


	4. Chapter 4

If Will made a list of all the things he knows about Nico di Angelo, it would look something like this:

1\. He’s really short

2\. Hazel Levesque is his sister. Why isn’t Hazel Levesque _Will’s_ sister? Because Will isn’t good enough, that’s why.

3\. He has a thing for dark clothes

4\. He can see ghosts.

5\. His eyes are amazing, and Will’s not even talking about their ghost-seeing abilities.

6\. He’s Italian.

“You’re Italian?” Will asks.

“My parents are,” Nico says, and then pauses. “Well, my mom was, at least.”

_Was_. Will gives Nico a sideways look but decides he shouldn’t push. “I _knew_ I heard an accent there somewhere.”

“I don’t _have_ an accent. I haven’t been to Italy since I was like two years old.”

“I bet you have an accent when you say ‘spaghetti carbonara’. Say ‘spaghetti carbonara’.”

Nico squints at him. “I’m trying very hard to not punch you right now.” 

It’s been about ten minutes since they’ve been walking and they just seem to go deeper and deeper into a housing colony. The ghost has been leading them, whispering in Will’s head somewhere off to his right, but according to Nico, he hasn’t made an appearance yet. 

By now, they’ve left the actual neighborhood behind and seem to be heading towards the lonelier areas where houses are still under construction. Will can see cranes and half-made houses in the distance and he wonders where this ghost is taking them. The only fully made houses that he can see are abandoned, some old and some new.

Nico’s apparently wondering the same thing because he pulls his aviator jacket close around him and says, “You’re sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yeah. Trust me.”

Nico just raises his eyebrows at that. He’s probably thinking something along the lines of _Yeah sure why_ don’t _I trust a guy I met literally an hour ago_ but Will doesn’t think that matters as much as it would, given the circumstances. They’re both in the same boat (or ghost ship, however you want to see it) so doesn’t that make them brothers-in-arms or something?

_Well,_ Will says, watching, mesmerized, as the end of Nico’s bangs brush his eyelashes, _maybe not_ brothers _._

“This is weird, isn’t it,” Nico says abruptly. “We’re making small talk like we’re two people out for a walk when we’re actually getting herded around by a ghost that we can both sense – I mean, just the fact that we’ve actually accepted that ghosts exist is… just surreal, I guess.”

“Yeah, this whole thing boggled my mind the first few minutes too,” Will agrees. “But it makes sense, kind of.”

“Does it?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know about you but I never _actually_ believed that I was crazy or that this was all in my head and that I was alone. Given everything, I should’ve, but it just never seemed to fit, you know? This _is_ weird but it feels right too.”

Nico stares at Will for a while, long enough to make him feel uncomfortable, and then finally says, “Yeah, it does.”

“What I’m really wondering, though,” Will continues once the weight of Nico’s gaze isn’t on him, “is if you and I can _see_ and _hear_ them, is there someone out there who can _touch_ them too?”

Nico snorts. “And, what, someone who can taste them too? Someone who can _smell_ them? What would that even be like?”

“I don’t know about the tasting part, but it’s pretty obvious that ghosts would smell like spirits.” He grins at Nico. “Get it? _Spirits_.”

Nico groans and buries his head in his hands. Will can see his cheek lifting on the wing of a smile and he can’t help feel pleased with himself.

“That’s the worst pun I’ve _ever_ heard,” Nico says, “and I’m friends with Percy Jackson.”

“Please,” Will snorts. “My puns are amazing – don’t lie, I _know_ you smiled – and besides, Percy just makes fish puns. He makes swim captain _one_ time…”

“It’s an achievement to be proud of!”

“I know it is, but you don’t see me making doctor puns all the time, do you?”

“So _that’s_ your thing?” Nico raises an eyebrow. “You want to be a doctor?”

“And you sound so disbelieving why?”

Nico shrugs. “You just don’t come across as a _doctor_ kind of guy. More like the surf-all-day play-songs-around-a-beach-campfire-all-night person.”

“I’m completely tone deaf,” Will informs Nico, “and surfing is fun until you get water up your nose so no, I’m going to stick with what I know.”

“And what you know is making sick people feel all better?”

“Well, obviously I’m not a doctor yet, but I did an internship in a clinic once _and_ I follow around a surgeon three days a week at the hospital. I can even watch her surgeries up from the gallery.”

“Really?” Nico blinks at him. “I didn’t know they let high school students do that.”

“Uh, not usually but... my dad puts in a good word for me.”

“Is he someone important?”

Will can feel the smile slipping off his face. “He works at the hospital,” he says shortly, training his gaze down at his feet, “He’s, uh, pretty good at what he does so whenever he introduces me as his son and tells the doctors and deans I’m trying for some work experience, they make some room for me.”

“Isn’t that unfair?”

Will’s head snaps up. “What?”

“There’s got to be a lot of other students your age who want to do the same thing but can’t. It’s not really fair you get to have that chance because of your dad and they don’t.” He shakes his head at Will. “Nepotism isn’t cool.”

Will stares at him. All he can say is, “Uh,” before the ghost’s voice creeps back into his head.

_Turn the corner here,_ it whispers fiercely. _The second house you see – that’s what you’re looking for._

“Right,” Will says.

“You bet I’m right,” Nico says smugly.

“What? No, we’re supposed to turn right here.”

Nico shrugs. “I’m still right.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Come on, follow me.”

The house in question is one of the old abandoned ones – run-down, looming, and looking increasingly foreboding in the dawning light of the day. It isn’t anything like the cookie-cutter houses they saw before: compact, strongly built and painted in cheerful colors. The porch looks like it might collapse underneath Will’s feet and the house is wide enough to take up at least two plots. And if this house can be described as ‘cheerful’, Coach Hedge must be the most delightful person in the whole school. 

“We’re supposed to go in _there_?” Will says distastefully.

“It looks just like the ghost,” Nico murmurs, “in house form.”

“Appropriate, then,” Will says. The voice is urging him to enter the house now, so he nods his head towards the front door. “Let’s go.”

The porch creaks dangerously underneath their feet but thankfully doesn’t give. Will has to push hard at the door to open it but once it does, it looks like it’s rotting off its hinges. Every floorboard is covered in mold and every nook and cranny crawling with termites. Half the staircase to the upper floor is collapsed in a pile of jagged molding planks of wood and the ceiling looks like it might follow suit. 

_They’re planning to tear the building down, or at least they were when I was alive,_ the ghost whispered. _They’re going to build a house or two here, and then some family will move in and – do you see what I meant when I said we didn’t have enough time?_

“He’s back,” Nico announces. When Will turns to look at him, his gaze is focused off to their left. Strangely enough, his whole expression softens as he watches the ghost. “He doesn’t look sad anymore. He actually looks… excited?” He glances at Will. “And he keeps pointing at that section of the floor. Is that important?”

_Yes, yes_ , the ghost whispers eagerly, and Will nods. _That’s where she’s buried!_

“Whoa, hold up,” Will freezes in his tracks. “Where the who what now?” 

Nico frowns at him in confusion.

_My sister! She’s buried under the house, right there. You need to dig her up!_

Will’s eyes widen and his hands automatically go to his face in horror. “Oh my God, is she alive?!”

_No, she isn’t. And her murderer shouldn’t be either._

There’s so much rage in those words, and so suddenly too, that Will doesn’t register the words at first and when he does, he just stares blankly at the space on the floor Nico pointed at. “What?” he mumbles.

The ghost doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. Somehow, Will can feel the anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves.

It’s only when Nico shifts beside him that he remembers he’s even there. “Will, what’s going on? The ghost – he came into focus all of a sudden. He almost seems solid, like I could touch him. That’s never happened before.”

“His sister’s body is buried under there,” Will explains. His hands are still against his cheeks and his fingers feel freezing cold. _Dead_ cold. His stomach churns – there’s a rotting dead body literally feet away from them. “And we need to un-bury her.”

Nico’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs. “How will digging up a dead body help anyone right now? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

_She disappeared three months before I died,_ the ghost whispers. His voice sounds broken now, rough at the edges, like Lou Ellen’s does when she talks about her mother. _I knew he did it but no one believed me. They all thought she ran away – she was always doing that. And when they didn’t find a body weeks later, they decided they couldn’t be bothered with it. They stopped looking for her._

_Then how’d you find out she was here?_

_He told me. Everything. Before I died. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t help her._

He chokes at the last word and then a small sob echoes through Will’s head – soft, helpless, pleading. It doesn’t fall against Will’s temples like the sobs last night did, but it tugs harshly at his heart, hard enough to hurt. 

_He’s walking around, a free man. My sister is gone and so is the evidence, with her. But you two can find it – you can tell the police so they can finally arrest him. All you have to do is show them the body, and they’ll do the rest. Please._

A hand grabs at Will’s elbow – Nico. “We have to help him,” Nico says firmly. His jaw is set in resolve and there’s steel in his eyes. He doesn’t even know the man’s story yet but he’s still more determined to carry through than Will is. Without anyone saying it out loud, it’s obvious: Nico’s the leader of this operation. 

“I thought you said it was the stupidest thing you’d ever heard,” Will says. “What’s changed now?”

“He started crying,” Nico says simply. He walks over to the spot he pointed out and kneels to inspect the floorboards. “Wow, these are rotted. We could both probably pull them up easily. Or you could kick them down. Either way would work but we should try whatever damages the body the least, if that’s what we’re getting at. Do you want to – what?” Nico’s looking at him again, frowning. “Why are you staring at me?”

Will quickly wipes the dumb look off his face. “He started crying and that changed your mind?” he asks.

Nico flushes. “I don’t like it when people cry, okay? Even dead people. And he looks…” Nico glances off to the side and all at once, his face falls, his lips turn down and his fingers twitch like he wants to reach out to the ghost, “He looks really sad.” He turns back to Will. “I’m assuming he has a good reason for it?”

Will’s heart is definitely aching now. He feels like hugging someone but he can’t tell if he wants to hug the poor dead guy, his poor dead sister or Nico. “Does he ever,” he murmurs.

“Then you can tell me everything while we work,” Nico orders, “Now get here and dig this body up, I can’t _handle_ that ghost crying in the corner, especially when I can’t even touch him.”

That’s simultaneously the weirdest and cutest thing Will’s ever heard anyone say, and it makes him smile, even through the nausea and the heartache.

He kneels beside Nico. “Aye aye, captain,” he says, and starts pulling at the floorboards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friends. i'm really sorry about the long wait for this chapter, and it's so teeny on top of that, but i had my mock exams and on top of that, things have not been going very well where i live and it's enough to make anyone want to take a break from stuff.
> 
> i'll try to post the next chapter fairly soon, possibly this week, but i'm working on a couple of other fics at the same time so it might be late. again. at least you get a whole new fic from me (hopefully)!
> 
> (also, correct me if i'm wrong at all about will's work experience stuff. i'm actually doing the exact same thing he is but stuff is a lot different in my country so my experience maybe differs some)


	5. Chapter 5

For someone who wants to be a doctor, Will Solace is strangely squeamish around corpses.

“I said I wanted to be a doctor, not a _mortician_!” Will cries, shuddering and scrambling away from the dead woman lying underneath the floorboards. His hands are grimy and his fingernails caked with dirt from digging underneath the house – he doesn’t seem to mind, however. He’s too preoccupied with freaking out about the dead body in front of them.

Nico, meanwhile, sits beside the body and cleans out the dirt from underneath his fingernails.

“You’re still going to see a lot of dead people if you ever become a surgeon or something,” he says, peering over the hole at her body. The floorboards underneath him creak dangerously, and before Nico has a good chance to look at her face, Will’s grabbed his jacket and is pulling him back.

“If the floor gives underneath you and you go falling all over her,” he says, too close to Nico’s ear, “I am forever going to consider you untouchable.”

Nico pushes him off, trying not to ask the obvious question of what makes him so _touchable_ in the first place. “Calm down, Solace. It’s just a dead body.”

“ _Just_ a dead body?” Will’s eyes are wide. “Why are you so cool with this? It’s like you see dead bodies every other day.”

“Well, yeah,” Nico waves his hand towards the ghost, who’s kneeling down to look at his sister. “I kind of do.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the ghost looks up and fixes him with his icy grey eyes. Beside Nico, Will grunts. “He’s asking how much longer the police are going to take,” he says.

“We only just called them five minutes ago,” Nico tells the ghost. “Seeing as how they thought we were prank-calling them at first, it’s probably going to take them at least five more minutes to get here.”

The ghost nods at Nico and then gazes down at his sister again. Hesitantly, he reaches out to touch her. His hand dissolves into the air when it comes close to his skin, and even though Nico can never see his face properly, he thinks he recognizes pain in his otherworldly eyes. 

“What’s her story?” Nico says to Will, who still won’t move closer to her. At least he looks like he’s calming down.

“I only picked up bits and pieces from him through all the crying,” he answers. He still has a hand on Nico’s jacket like he doesn’t want him to go closer to the corpse. “Apparently she was killed by her husband three months ago, but there was never any evidence against him – not even any evidence that she was _murdered_ – so they thought she was missing.”

_Missing._ Nico tries to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. Everything always seems to come back to that word. 

“He never exactly had any reason to believe his sister was killed by her husband,” Will continues, “but he said he always thought he’d do something like that. Apparently, he was really liberal with his fists, although she never complained.”

He gives Nico a dark look but Nico only catches it from the corner of his eye – he’s too busy watching the ghost. The only thing he can see clearly are his eyes, and he’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but he thinks he sees a pearly white tear staining his cheek.

The dead can cry. Nico doesn’t know why he ever assumed otherwise.

“Did the husband kill him too?” he asks Will.

“No. He had locked-in syndrome.” At Nico’s questioning look, Will clears his throat and says, “I’m not sure if I’m right – I’ve only read a little about it – but in our ghostly friend’s case, he was completely paralyzed, except for his eyes. There was nothing wrong with his brain otherwise, so he could hear people. He talked to them through blinking.” He glances at the dead body. “Can he move now?”

Nico watches as the ghost brushes his hand to his sister’s cheek. “Yeah.”

“He says it happened to him only a few weeks before his sister died,” Will continues, “And then the police ruled it as a missing person case, even though he knew better. He says his brother-in-law took a phone call one day, right in front of him, talking about disposing of something in this house.” He looks around the house, up at its ceiling, down at the dead body, as if trying to imagine the woman being killed here. “The guy never said it explicitly, but apparently, it was obvious what exactly they were _disposing_.” Will frowns. “He says he was rubbing his face in it, that he wanted him to know. God, how sick is that?”

“And he could never tell anyone.”

“No. Whenever he tried to, they misunderstood him. And then the police started treating it as a missing person’s case instead.”

“And then he died. From the syndrome?”

Will shakes his head. “He’s not sure what happened to him, exactly. He was too busy, you know…” he lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, “dying.”

Nico blinks. “Right. Dying.”

Will nods his head, staring down at his hands. “He died only yesterday. I bet they still have his body at the morgue.” He lets out one huff of a laugh. “Maybe my own dad worked on him at one point. Imagine that.”

“Yesterday? He came looking for us right after he died?” 

Will nods. “He says it was easy to find us. _You two are like spotlights surrounded by light bulbs._ Direct quote.” He flashes Nico a grin. “How inspiring is that?”

“Incredibly. I always wanted to be a spotlight. No wonder I have to deal with about twenty ghosts every single day.”

“Actually, it could be a lot worse. From what I’ve gathered, finding us is easy, but staying in this world is a lot harder. Most ghosts don’t stay ghosts for very long – you have to be really desperate to stay here.”

“So you’re saying,” Nico narrows his eyes at Will, “I’ve been turning away and ignoring thousands of incredibly desperate ghosts instead of helping them like I should?”

Will blinks at him. “Well, in your defense, you thought you were just seeing things. And I sort of did the same thing. But at least you can make up for it now, can’t you?”

“I can?”

“Yeah! You’re going to help everyone who comes to you now, aren’t you?”

Nico shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe not everyone. But yeah, some people, I guess.”

“And I’ll help you,” Will smiles. “We can be a great crime-fighting ghost-whispering duo.”

“I think you’ve forgotten that we barely know each other.”

“We dug up a dead body together, Nico. We have a special bond no one else does.”

“You’re creeping me out.”

Will’s eyebrows shoot up. “Inspecting a corpse and talking to a ghost doesn’t creep you out, but _I_ do?”

“That should tell you how disturbing you are.”

“You’re so rude,” Will huffs, but there’s a smile on his face, so he knows Nico’s kidding. Honestly, Nico doesn’t really mind that Will doesn’t know him. He’s actually glad he doesn’t. People who _do_ know Nico know all kinds of unsavory details about his past which probably affect their friendships with him, as much as he tries to convince himself they don’t. With Will, he feels like he has a clean slate to work with, and he’s actually a little excited about it.

Only a few hours ago, he never would’ve imagined he would be excited about being friends with Will Solace. Now here he is.

Just as Will’s opening his mouth to fill the sudden silence that’s enveloped them, Nico’s cell phone rings. It’s Hazel.

It’s almost six. His family is probably worried sick about him. With a pang of guilt, Nico presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Nico! Thank God you picked up – do you know what time it is? Where are you?”

Nico shoots a glance at Will, who can obviously hear Hazel, judging by the way he’s snickering and trying to hide it. Rolling his eyes at him, Nico replies, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Hazel snorts. “There’s nothing you could say that would surprise me.”

“I’m at an abandoned old house halfway around town, where Will Solace and I just dug up a body someone buried underneath the floorboards. Now we’re sitting beside the corpse, waiting for the police to arrive…”

“And I think that’s them now,” Will says, getting up and moving towards the door. Nico holds the phone away from his ear – Will’s right, he can hear the sound of police sirens getting closer.

Hazel’s still saying something. Nico utters a quick, “Gotta go,” into the phone before hanging up and standing next to Will.

“Ready?” he asks him.

Will’s eyes are trained at a police car rounding the corner. Nico watches as the red and blue plays across his face, highlighting his eyes, spilling onto his cheeks. He nods. “Ready.”

~*~

The two of them had talked about maybe just calling into the police station and making an anonymous tip about where the dead body could be found, but they weren’t sure their call wouldn’t be dismissed as nothing. It had been the right move – when they _had_ called the station, the officer who picked up honestly thought he was being pranked. It wasn’t until Nico held up the phone near Will to let the officer hear him panicking about the body that they were taken seriously.

Now the whole house is crawling with officers, detectives and medical examiners, who Will watches with attentive eyes. He’s so busy studying them that Nico alone is forced to tell their whole cover story to their detective in charge. 

The detective doesn’t look anything like the ones on TV with their leather jackets and silky hair and perfect bodies. This one is short, squat, balding, and doesn’t look like he’s slept in ages. He looks more like the minor character who gets the detectives coffee while they interrogate suspects in a civil but unyielding manner.

Nico tells him everything except the truth: that he and Will are good friends who heard at school that this house is haunted, and so double-dared each other to spend a few hours exploring it, which eventually led to them pulling up a loose molded floorboard and seeing a dead body underneath.

“You seemed very calm on the phone for someone who’d stumbled across a rotting corpse,” the detective says, peering at Nico with watery eyes.

“I left the freaking out to my friend here,” Nico says, bumping his shoulder to Will’s in what he hopes is a friendly gesture. Will just lets out a distracted “Hmm?” while not taking his eyes off of the medical examiners.

“He doesn’t seem very disturbed either,” the detective notices.

“He wore himself out,” Nico says apologetically. 

“What’s he concentrating so hard at?”

“Probably the doctors. He wants to be one too.”

The detective looks interested at that. “Really? Well, maybe one day he might be working for us, huh?”

“I bet he’d like that,” Nico says, beaming. He nudges Will’s ribcage as hard as he can, but Will just mumbles, “Yeah” back.

“Now you kids should know,” the detective says, raising bushy eyebrows at them, “that while you can tell your families about what happened today, you’re not to tell any reporters.”

Nico frowns. “Reporters?”

“The press is going to be here soon but we’ll get you home before then, so they don’t hound you. And they’re _very_ good at hounding.”

“Why can’t we tell them what happened?”

“Trust me; you don’t want that kind of attention. When they don’t get enough information out of the department – which they never do – they’ll come after you wherever you are. You don’t want to go to school and see reporters flocked everywhere, do you?”

God, no. If there was any way to make school even worse than it already is, that must be it. “No. We won’t tell anyone other than our families, we promise.”

“And your families can’t tell anyone either,” the detective says sternly. Nico nods, and nudges Will, who automatically nods too. “Good. Now there’s just one more thing you need to know…”

“Can I ask one small question?” Nico interrupts. The man blinks down at Nico, surprised. “I’m just really curious. Do you guys know who might have did it? Killed the woman, I mean?”

“I’m sorry, kid, I can’t tell you.”

“Please?” Nico widens his eyes, trying to go for the pleading baby seal look he learned from Percy. “Just the bare minimum of information. It would really help me sleep at night. Seeing a dead body like this can be very traumatic, you know. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Will’s now turned a complete 180 degrees, watching them take the body away with his back turned to Nico and the detective. When Nico reaches for him to get his attention, his almost grabs Will’s butt. Will doesn’t even notice. “Right,” he says.

“He’s traumatized, alright,” the detective says drily, raising an eyebrow at Nico.

Nico just puts on the cutest face he can. Seeing as how he’s a fourteen-year-old boy, it’s probably not his best.

Some of his desperation must be apparent, though, because the detective sighs and runs a hand through his thin hair. “The bare minimum, huh? Well, I suppose you’re going to learn all of it on TV tonight anyway.” He nods a chin at the hole Nico and Will had dug into the ground. “She’s been missing for about three months and since there was nothing really to go on, it’s been a cold case for a while now. I _did_ have a suspect, but only because of a hunch – nothing solid – especially because there was never a body.”

“But now there is. So are you going to arrest him? Or her?”

“Depends on what the body tells us.”

“Dead people do say a lot, if you listen.”

“You’re one weird kid,” the detective says, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. He reaches forward, claps a hand on Will’s shoulder and spins him around. “Now there’s one last thing you need to know. Both of you.”

Will cranes his head over his shoulder, still not listening. The detective raises his eyebrows at Nico, who reaches out, grabs Will’s chin and turns it the right way forward. 

Instantly, he knows he’s made a mistake. Will’s skin is warm and smooth underneath his fingers and he keeps his hand lingering for way too long. Will’s eyes are wide and surprised when he looks at Nico, who can feel his blush burning his ears. For someone who hates touching, Nico’s getting way too comfortable with Will, and he needs to stop.

“The detective wants to tell us something,” he mumbles, shoving his hand into his pocket, trying to get it to stop tingling. Finally – _finally_ – Will looks away from him and towards the man in front of them.

If the detective noticed anything, he doesn’t let it on. “Our officers will drop you home,” he says, nodding over to a couple of policemen nearby, “They might help explain the situation to your parents. They’ll need your contact information as well, to pass along to the family so you can collect the reward money.”

_Reward money._ That’s enough to catch Will’s attention as well as Nico’s. They exchange stunned glances. “Reward?” Nico squeaks.

“The victim’s family has been offering a reward to anyone who has information as to where she is,” the detective nods, looking like he’s enjoying their surprise. “We advise people not to collect reward money, so as to not put the family through trouble, but in my experience, families usually insist very firmly that the reward be given.”

“But we can’t take their money!” Will protests. “We’re the reason they’re going to know their daughter’s _dead_ – that’s nothing to reward us about.”

“Actually, the victim’s parents aren’t the ones offering it. It’s her husband.”

Behind the detective, the air flickers and sharpens into the image of a man covered in shadows. He tilts his head up. There’s a smile in his icy eyes. When he opens his mouth, it distorts unrecognizably, but Nico doesn’t need to be able to hear him to know he’s saying thank you.

“On second thought,” Nico says, smiling at the detective. “I think I’d like a reward.”

~*~

Nico’s already collapsed on his bed and halfway asleep when his room’s door opens. Hazel waltzes in like she owns the place and sits down near Nico’s feet, looking at him expectantly. Honestly, Nico would be a lot more pissed off if he hadn’t just seen a man lose his sister today. Instead, he props himself up onto his elbows and imagines what life what would be like without Hazel around to be overly familiar with everything he owns. 

“So you weren’t lying,” Hazel says finally.

“Huh?”

“What you told me on the phone. I thought you were making stuff up because you didn’t want to tell me the truth, but you really found a dead body, didn’t you? It’s all over the news.”

Nico sits up. “They didn’t say our names, did they? They weren’t supposed to know us.”

“No, they just said ‘two teenage boys’,” Hazel says. “But the officer who dropped you off is explaining everything to Dad, and I overheard.” She pauses, then leans closer. “Was Will Solace really with you?”

“Yeah. The officer dropped him off only a few minutes ago.”

“You barely know Will,” Hazel says, looking concerned, “Why were you in that old house alone with him?”

Nico hesitates, not sure what to say. Lying to a man he doesn’t know is nothing compared to lying to his sister. Deciding he should probably stick to his original story, he tells her, “We heard it was a haunted house. And then we decided to explore it.”

“Yeah, that’s what the officer said too, but why would you explore a random house with _Will Solace_? You’re not even friends.”

“I suppose we are.”

Hazel studies him uncertainly, and Nico knows she can see right through him. He could never lie to her, and even when he did, she always caught him. He waits for her to call him out but instead, she just shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter, anyway. Are you okay? It must have been terrifying, finding that poor woman.”

Nico almost laughs out loud. Instead, he gives her a reassuring smile. “It wasn’t. Really, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? If you need to talk…”

“Hazel, I’m okay, honest.” He takes both of her hands in his and smiles at her. “I’m really glad you’re okay too.”

“Of course I’m okay. I’ve been at home this whole time.”

“I know, but still – seeing that woman made me realize I shouldn’t take some things for granted.”

Hazel’s expression softens. “Oh, Nico,” she says, reaching forward to hug him. “We’re never going to leave you – me or Dad. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know,” Nico whispers, hugging her back. His eyes are stinging all of a sudden – he hadn’t expected her to hug him and just the fact that she did is making him twice as grateful to be her brother. 

“She was a missing person, you know,” Nico continues, his voice low. Hazel hugs him even tighter. “Her family had a reward out for whoever could give them any information about her. Maybe in this case, it wasn’t that well-meaning, but isn’t that a good idea? It gives people incentive to help you. You never know what other people might find out. Hazel, it’s a really good idea.”

“Nico,” Hazel’s voice is firm but still soft. She pulls away, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t do this to yourself. Not again.”

Frustration builds up like a wave inside Nico, threatening to wash over him, but he looks down and nods. He doesn’t understand why everyone – even Hazel – dismisses him whenever he brings this topic up. He’s not doing _anything_ to himself. He’s just being hopeful. What’s so bad about that?

“Hey, come on, don’t make that face,” Hazel shakes his shoulders until he looks up. She’s beaming at him. “You helped the police with a case _and_ you got paid for it! You bought the woman’s family some closure – and think of all the things we could do with the money! Isn’t it great?”

Nico forces a smile. “It is.”

“ _And_ apparently you have a new friend too,” Hazel says, raising an eyebrow. “So that’s going to be fun, isn’t it?”

Nico remembers sitting close to Will on top of a wall this afternoon and telling him the secret he’d never told anyone, remembers his grin when he made a stupid pun, the way he looked off into the distance with a glazed look in his eyes as he listened for the ghost’s whispers. He remembers the warmth of his skin underneath Nico’s fingers, and just the memory of it makes Nico blush.

Most of all, he remembers how he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to him tonight, despite the fact that they’d only met today. When Will had said, “See you tomorrow, partner,” Nico hadn’t glared at him or told him to stop. It’s still annoying, sure, but not intolerable. Maybe even a little nice. Which sums up Nico’s entire opinion about Will as a person too.

He smiles at Hazel, watches his sister brighten just because he did. “You know what?” he says. “I think tomorrow’s going to be a good day.”

Hazel squeezes his hands. “Me too. Now come on, let’s go see how much money you made today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was going to be a lot longer but i decided to push the jercy brotp and solangelo bonding to the next chapter. hope you guys liked it, tell me what you thought!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so sorry for the delay! i got caught up with my studies and sadly, my exams are REALLY close now, so please don't be disappointed if the next update takes just as long! my studies are always the number one priority for me, so i won't get back to fic writing until i've got everything on that end under control. BUT i will definitely try to be quicker from now on.

Will expected the kids at his school to talk about the discovery of the body the day before, and had already practiced his perfect _oh my god really I had no idea that happened_ face. What he didn’t expect, however, was to walk into school with every single person’s eyes trained on him.

They must have found out that he was there when the body was found, but how? He was up until late last night, watching TV, and none of the news channels mentioned anything about him or Nico. In the morning, he asked his mom about it over breakfast, and she told him not to worry. There was no way anyone would find out unless Will or Nico themselves told them.

That must be it. Nico told everyone. Will thought it was their private secret, but apparently not. He’s surprised at how disappointed he feels.

He keeps his head low as he walks to his locker, not making eye contact with anyone in case they think it’s an invitation to interrogate him about the dead lady. He’s so focused on his sneakers (Lou Ellen’s drawn runes on them _again_ – he has to stop her one of these days) that he doesn’t notice when he walks right into someone.

“There you are,” Nico hisses, grabbing at Will’s shoulders to steady him and then quickly letting go. He side-eyes the people standing across the hall from them, who are doing a miserable job of acting like they’re not listening in (one of them is holding their cell phone an inch away from their face. This school is full of idiots).

“Hey,” Will says.

“Hey? _Hey_? Is that all?”

Will frowns. “Um. You look nice today?”

Nico rolls his eyes, but Will’s slightly encouraged to see the dusting of pink on his cheeks. “What is going on?” Nico demands in a whisper. “Everyone’s been staring at me ever since I came in. Did you tell anyone?”

Will’s eyes widen. “No! I thought you did.”

“Why _would_ I? I only talk to like five people anyway.”

“And did you tell any of those five people?”

Nico hesitates, the angry glint dying from his eyes. “Well, obviously, Hazel knows – she was there when I pulled up in the police car. But she promised not to tell anyone, and she doesn’t break promises.”

“She obviously did. _Everyone_ knows.”

“Hazel would never do that. She’s not – oh no,” Nico’s eyes focus on a point behind Will, mouth dropping in horror. “Oh no,” he mouths.

He looks like he’s seen a ghost, and at first, Will assumes he has. Then he feels a hand clap at his shoulder and almost jumps out of his skin. _Hearing_ ghosts is bad enough but touchingthem is a whole other kind of hell.

But instead of a ghost, it’s Jason, with Percy in tow, and Will’s not sure if that’s an improvement.

“Hey there, Will,” Percy sing-songs, while Jason just smiles pleasantly at him. They both look very smug for some reason. Will is vaguely terrified.

“Percy,” Will greets. “Jason. You guys are holding hands again, I see.”

The two boys glance down at their interlinked fingers. “It’s fine,” Percy assures him. “We both said no homo before doing it. If you say one no homo per hour, it’s not gay, and we have ourselves on a timer.”

“Speaking of gay…” Jason says, turning to Nico.

“Don’t even,” Nico warns them through gritted teeth.

“ _I_ didn’t even say anything yet,” Percy continues, “But I do have to say that I’m really upset –“

“ _Incredibly_ upset,” Jason nods.

“– that you wouldn’t tell _us_ , your two best bros, about your very first boyfriend. Do you not trust us, Nico?”

Nico folds his arms. “Right now, I’m not even sure I _like_ you.”

“Wait a minute,” Will holds up his hands. “ _Boyfriend_? Who said anything about a _boyfriend_?”

“Well, isn’t that what you are?” Jason asks.

“I’m nobody’s boyfriend.”

“Dude, yes you are,” Percy insists, as if he would know better than Will. “Unless your new nickname for Nico is ‘nobody’.”

Will blinks uncomprehendingly at him for a few seconds, then turns, mouth agape, towards Nico. “What?” he mumbles.

Nico’s cheeks are bright red now and he half-glares at Will and then glances away in a strange combination of anger and embarrassment. “What _else_ did you think I was pissed about?” he demands. “That’s what everyone’s talking about!”

“That we’re _boyfriends_? We’re not boyfriends!”

Percy snorts. “You guys were there when they found that lady’s body in that abandoned old house, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean –“

“Why would you be together in an abandoned old house if you weren’t dating and weren’t looking for somewhere to be alone together?” Jason puts in.

“That’s not a good place to meet up, though,” Percy frowns, “Like, what did you even do there? The floor of the house was all gross on TV – you could get like a million and one diseases by having sex on there.”

The blood rushes to Will’s face so fast he feels dizzy. Nico looks positively horrified, his eyes bugging out of his head. “We did _not_ –“

“Don’t be stupid, Percy,” Jason answers, “They must have put a sheet or something beneath. And they’re not getting any diseases – they use protection. Don’t you, Nico?”

Nico stares at him, too horror-struck to speak.

“Well, it’s fine,” Jason waves it off. “I’ll get you some condoms today if you like. What size?”

“I cannot believe I’m having this conversation,” Will whispers to himself.

“I’m still not totally okay with you not telling us,” Percy says, “We had to hear it from Peter.”

Nico blinks. “Who’s Peter?”

“ _Exactly_.”

“Look, he didn’t tell you guys because there was nothing to tell,” Will says quickly, “This is all just a huge misunderstanding. Right, Nico?”

“Oh, come on, man, at least don’t lie to our faces,” Percy shoves at Will.

“I’m not!”

“Then why were you two alone in that abandoned old house in the middle of nowhere?”

Will falters, and then glances down at Nico, who has a resigned expression on his face. He realizes that _this_ is why Nico hasn’t been able to dispel the rumors all day. What possible excuse could he make?

Jason and Percy watch as Will splutters for a while, and then grin at each other smugly, like they’ve accomplished some great feat. Will wants to smash their faces together like a couple of coconuts.

“I can’t believe _your_ friends told everyone,” Nico mutters to Will. “Can’t they keep _one_ secret?”

“They can!” Will protests. “Besides, I only ever told Lou Ellen, and she would never tell anyone if asked her to.”

“Are you sure about that, man?” Percy speaks up. When Will looks at him questioningly, he points to somewhere behind Will, and when Will turns around, there’s Lou Ellen, walking towards him in all her green-haired dark-clothed glory, but she isn’t sporting her trademark too-wide-for-her-face grin. Instead, she looks up at Will with an apologetic expression on her face, and Will knows.

He groans in frustration. “You told someone, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” she says, wincing, “I just couldn’t keep it in! I mean, _Nico di Angelo_?” she motions towards Nico, who looks entirely too uncomfortable with the attention. “I didn’t know you even knew his name, let alone were _dating_ him! How could I _not_ talk about that?”

Will puts his hands on his hips. “Who did you tell?”

“Just Cecil. And Katie. And then Cecil told the Stolls –“

Of course. The Stolls. They can’t keep their own secrets, let alone other people’s. Will has the urge to find Cecil out and strangle him.

Lou Ellen guesses as much. “He’s hiding from you,” she explains, “and I’m not to tell you where he is.”

So she can keep _that_ a secret, but not the stuff Will tells her. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t deal with this stuff _this_ early in the morning.” He yanks his locker door open with a loud _clang_ , making everyone leap back except for Nico, who just rolls his eyes at him like Will’s being unreasonable.

“Fine,” Nico answers, as if Will was talking only to him, “I’ll meet you after school, then.”

And then, without further ado, he grabs Jason’s bicep and then walks away, dragging the other two with him. He doesn’t even say goodbye. He’s probably one of those people who message _K_ after someone sends them an essay and a half.

Speaking of text messages, Will doesn’t have his number. If they’re to keep up this ghost whisperer stuff, he probably should ask for it. But the mere thought of it gives him clammy hands, so maybe he’ll put it off until later notice.

“I like your boyfriend,” Lou Ellen speaks up.

Will rests his forehead on the locker. “Don’t.”

“Just saying,” she shrugs. “I’m actually really surprised. I really didn’t know you knew him.”

He can feel her gaze pressing in the middle of his shoulder blades. “I met him through Hazel,” he says, thinking fast, “And we started talking and hanging out here and there, well, the rest is history.”

Lou Ellen hums. “And you never thought to mention it to me.”

“Oh, that, uh – Nico didn’t want me to.”

“But why? It’s not like he hasn’t come out.”

That’s true. In fact, Nico was the first person in this hellhole of a school to do so, which was why there was such a hyped-up reaction from the student body at large. Will only even knew him as ‘that one gay kid’, which he supposes is how most other people knew him as well. Will doesn’t think people were aggressive about it – at least, not that he knows of – but there must have been a few incidents here and there. It would be very surprising if there hadn’t been.

The weirdest thing was how him coming out had apparently been the first domino to fall – in two months, almost twenty more kids announced that they were “definitely not straight”. There was a whole rainbow of sexualities mixed up in that mosh pit, and Will was one of them.

As for Will – well, he never officially came out, mainly because he never had to. Everyone always seemed to know. When a ten-year-old Will told his mom about his very first crush, his mom hadn’t reacted at all about him being a boy, and had instead excitedly asked all sorts of important questions, like his name (Christopher) and if he was nice (very) and what his favorite color was (dark green).

He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever outright said it to his friends. If there was ever a time when it hit them like a ton of bricks, they hadn’t expressed it at all. 

The closest he can think of coming out is when, three summers ago, he and Lou Ellen were watching TV at his house while drinking lemonade and he’d said, “Boys are really cute, huh?”

She’d replied with, “Dude. I don’t care,” and gone back to sipping.

And that pretty much summed up their friendship.

She’s still waiting on an answer from him, so he shuts the locker door and turns to face her. “I don’t know,” he shrugs on his bag. “I decided not to push him, I guess.”

She thankfully accepts that answer, nodding. “How gross was it though?” she says as they start walking through the hallway, Will still keeping his head down to avoid stares. “Like, you guys were just doing the do and then the floor collapses and there’s a dead body there?”

Will snorts, imagining the scenario. Wouldn’t that be funny – the two of them panicking as a chasm opens up beside them, putting an end to their touching and kissing and panting…

He stops short in the middle of the hallway, face burning. For a second there, he could practically feel the weight of Nico’s body in top of him, could hear his gasps in his ear. What the _hell_ is wrong with him?

“You okay?” Lou Ellen asks, entirely too loudly. “You’re really red all of a sudden.”

Putting his hands on his heated face, Will shakes his head at her and then hurries to class. This day is turning out to be a nightmare.

~*~

True to his word, Nico’s waiting for him at the school steps when classes end, leaning against the stone railing, and going through his phone. His hair falls in his eyes when he nods at him, and Will tries not to think too much about how those silky strands would feel slipping through his fingers.

This is a rabbit hole he’s fell into way too many times. But not this time. No fraternizing with fellow ghost-whisperers – that’s a cardinal rule.

Which is very easy to forget when Nico looks at him like that. Is he actually checking Will out? 

“You never told me you were gay,” Nico says finally.

Will’s eyebrows shoot up his head. Nico’s implying they knew each other well enough to share things like that, but they don’t. Do they? “It’s not a secret. Everyone knows, so I thought you did too.”

“I was so confused when I first heard the rumors this morning. I kept thinking: _but he doesn’t even like guys._ And then Piper brought me up-to-date, and it makes sense why everyone assumes the only thing two gay people could be doing together is something sexual.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed as he did this morning, but there are still remnants of it in his voice. He seems like an easily irritated person to Will in general, but he still wonders if his frustration has to do with the fact that he can’t imagine why there would be rumors about him and _Will_. 

The concept isn’t too unthinkable in Will’s eyes. He’s been thinking of it way too much, in fact.

He clears his throat. “I don’t think people mean to be offensive about it.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t offensive,” Nico looks around the school grounds, “And now everyone keeps staring at us. I hate it when people stare at me.”

It’s funny he should say that, because Will was just going the exact same thing. Quickly tearing his eyes away, Will sits next to him. “So I asked my dad about the woman last night.”

That catches Nico’s attention. “And?”

“She wasn’t a patient of his, but he said he recognized her last name, and then he realized she came to visit one of his patients at the hospital a lot.”

“Her brother.”

“Yup. He said she was there like every other day.” He stares out at the school parking lot. “A tired-looking woman, that’s what he called her. She cried during every visit. He figured she was just extremely sensitive and couldn’t handle seeing her brother like that. He had no idea she was being abused.”

Nico chews at his lip. “He doesn’t blame himself, does he?”

He sounds genuinely concerned – of Will’s father, of all people. Will called him last night only to ask him if he knew any details about the murder, and instead the man started his own pity party via telephone, going on and on about how he should’ve paid more attention to the woman, how he could have helped her. No, wait – _saved_ her. That’s the words he’d used. Will’s embarrassed to say he’s never encountered anyone with a bigger god complex than his own father.

He digs in his pocket for his cell phone. “Her name was Dolores Chastain. Her brother’s name was Felix.” He pulls up his photo gallery. “My dad sent me the picture of him in the hospital file.”

Nico leans in close to see the picture, and stays completely still as he does. The man in the photo has a neutral expression, dark curly hair and laugh lines. His skin stretches across his bones unhealthily, but his eyes are a piercing grey. Will imagines he would smile if he could.

“Did he look anything like this?” he asks Nico quietly.

Nico holds his position for a while, unblinking, then lets out a long sigh and leans back. He closes his eyes. “No. Not at all.”

Will pockets his phone. “It’s strange to know their names, isn’t it? Makes it that much more real.”

“Everything’s already too real. Too sudden. I wish it would all go away for a while, that it would just… not happen.”

His voice sounds worryingly shaky, and he clenches his jaw to hide it. Without thinking, Will takes his hand. Nico’s eyes snap open in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away, only stares at Will.

Will’s not sure at first of what he means to say, so they just stand there for a few seconds, awkwardly holding hands. Then, slowly, Nico raises his eyebrows.

“It’s okay,” Will blurts out. “To be overwhelmed. I mean, with all the stuff we found out in the past twenty-four hours, it would be weird if you weren’t. But you don’t have to be scared. Or worried – or whatever you are, I’m not good with words, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, it’s all too sudden, but it’s a good thing too, you know? Like, now we can _help_ people. We can stop being so damn confused about the things we hear and see and can put them to actual use. And sure, that’s going to be really hurtful – I spent _ages_ thinking about the ghost and his sister last night and to be completely honest, I think I even cried a little bit too – but doesn’t the bad outweigh the good? Doesn’t that make it worth it?”

Nico studies him for a few seconds and Will thinks he’s never seen someone so somber in his life. “I just don’t see why it has to be me,” he says quietly.

“It doesn’t. But it is, and denying it won’t do you any good.” Feeling brave, he squeezes Nico’s hand and flashes him a grin. “Hey, don’t worry – we’ll figure it all out together. We’re partners after all, right?”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“You know you like it,” Will grins, tugging at his hand, and he only means it as a joke, but a corner of Nico’s lips lifts in a tiny half-smile back. He _does_ like it. Will’s grin widens.

“So now that we’re officially partners-in-crime,” Will pauses, glancing around at the people not-very-subtly eyeing their connected hands, “or _boyfriends_ as other people call us, I think we should get to know each other, don’t you?”

A cheeky smile spreads on Nico’s face. “I already know you’re annoying as all hell, what else is there?”

“Ha, ha,” Will rolls his eyes. “Come on.” He tugs at Nico’s hand, pulling him down the steps. 

“Where are we going?”

“My mom’s making spaghetti tonight, and you’re not missing it. Besides,” he smiles back at Nico, “after all the stuff I told her about you, she’s dying to meet you.”

“Oh no,” Nico says in mock-horror, “I hope I measure up to her expectations.”

Will laughs. “Don’t worry. You will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i first wrote this i wasn't going to post it because i thought there was too much jercy but then i realized. there's no such thing as too much jercy.  
> (did not edit this, please tell me if i made any mistakes)  
> kudos, comments are appreciated! lemme know what you thought :D


	7. Chapter 7

Will’s mother has the same smile as he does, wide and unrestrained. She has bright brown eyes, twinkling behind a pair of glasses. Her hair is just as curly too, but it’s darker. And she talks the same way, happy and bright, giving Nico her full attention.

She’s surprised to see him at first, which makes Nico feel guilty for not having Will tell her beforehand, but she’s incredibly friendly the whole while – even more so when Will introduces him. She corrects him when he calls her Mrs Solace, telling him she’s just a Miss. Nico doesn’t pry.

“To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised you’re here, Nico,” she says, smiling brightly as she gives him a way-too-big helping of spaghetti. “Will only ever brings the same three of his friends over.”

“Mom,” Will says, slurping in a long strand of spaghetti, “are you seriously telling him how anti-social I am?”

“Oh, you’re not anti-social, sweetheart. Just –“ she winces as he burps, sending Nico an apologetic glance, “– an acquired taste.”

“My own mother thinks that about me,” Will says to Nico. “Imagine what kind of a traumatic childhood I had.”

Nico raises his eyebrows. “I’m sure you weren’t exactly the model son yourself.”

“I was amazing, thank you very much.”

“That thing sticking to the ceiling there?” Will’s mother directs Nico’s gaze upwards. “Homemade dough Will made when he was five out of corn flour, glue and milk while I was at the school.” She smiles, eyes crinkling. “I still don’t know how it got up there and why it won’t come down.”

Will whines out a “Mo-om” but Nico’s attention is on something she said a few sentences back. “At school?” he asks. “You’re studying?”

“No, Mom’s a teacher at the elementary school. The entire first grade.”

“It’s like dealing with twenty little Wills.” Miss Solace reaches across the table and ruffles her son’s hair. Will mutters a Mom why do you do this to me under his breath even as he smiles at her.

Nico immediately likes her. He always finds himself liking mothers, even when they’re not particularly affectionate to their kids. And the ones that are, quickly turn into one of his favorite adults of all time. If Miss Solace starts making chocolate goodies for Nico out of nowhere, she might even give Percy’s mom a run for her money.

“Teaching is pretty cool,” Nico comments. “My sister says she would be a teacher if she didn’t want to be an artist so badly.”

“Oh, the arts,” Miss Solace smiles. “Now that takes real talent.”

“And Hazel is talented, right, Nico? You should see her sketches, Mom. You’d never think she’s only thirteen.”

“Almost fourteen,” Nico adds. “But yeah, she’s really good for her age.”

“And you, Nico?” Will’s mom asks, refilling his glass. “Have any career goals in mind?”

“Um, well…” Nico chews slowly. “Not really. I’m not very ambitious that way, I suppose.”

Will nudges him with his elbow. “You could become a doctor.”

“Not everyone wants to become a doctor, Will,” Miss Solace says, giving him a reproachful look.

“A nurse, then!” Will beams. “You can be my assistant. It’ll be awesome.”

“Why would I go through med school and internships just like you would, only to become your assistant?”

Will blinks. “Because… I’ll pay you well?”

Nico rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t exactly have the patience for med school.”

“How about law, then?” Miss Solace takes a sip of water. “Your father is a judge, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Nico beams. He’s always been proud of his father’s job, for as long as he can remember. “Do you know him?”

“A son of one of my friends was kidnapped almost five years ago. When they caught the criminal, your father was the presiding judge on the case. I was very impressed with the way he handled it. I couldn’t imagine being impartial in that position.”

“I didn’t know that.” He leans forward in interest. “I hope he was convicted.”

“Oh, he was. It was a reduced sentence, but we were simply happy he didn’t walk free.”

“Mom loves courtroom drama,” Will tells Nico. “She’s watching lawyer shows on TV all the time.”

“Closing arguments are the best,” Miss Solace says dreamily.

Nico bites his lip, trying not to laugh. Somehow it seems funny that Will Solace’s elementary teacher mother gets heart-eyes over trials, especially when Nico knows how boring they can be. “Real trials are actually pretty dull,” he says sheepishly. “My dad used to let me sit in some of them when I was much younger, provided I was quiet and they were about PG-13 stuff.”

“That’s probably why they were boring,” Will points out. “Murder is where all the juicy stuff’s at.”

“Will,” his mother chastises, “we’re eating here.”

“Mother, please. You regularly watch gore on TV while you eat.”

“I don’t mind,” Nico shrugs. “I don’t have a problem with talking about murder while eating. Or gore, for that matter.”

“Oh, yeah. Nico here has a real strong stomach, Mom.”

Miss Solace nods. “Yes, I suppose you have to.”

Nico stares. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, because of what the two of you found in that abandoned old house yesterday.” She shakes her head. Her eyes widen behind her glasses. “Horrifying.”

Will shrugs. “It was just a dead body.”

“That someone murdered. It disturbs me just thinking of you discovering it.” She puts down her cutlery, shudders.

“That’s okay, Miss Solace,” Nico reassures her. “We didn’t look at her much. Just quickly covered her face up as best we could and called the police.”

“And besides, in a way, it was good work experience,” Will adds. “I mean, I’m going to have to cut up cadavers eventually, so –“

“Yeah, but those will be fresh, right?” Nico cuts into a meatball. “Like preserved and stuff?”

“Hmm yeah, but how fresh can they be?”

“Probably rotting in the places you can’t see.”

“The cadavers on TV are always slightly wrinkled and blue,” Miss Solace agrees, chewing.

“Speaking of blue,” Nico says, “this blueberry pie is great, Miss Solace.”

“And speaking of wrinkled, that basket of fruit has got to go, Mom.”

“Thank you, Nico,” Miss Solace says, cutting Nico another slice. “And thank you for your helpful contribution to the conversation, Will.”

Will leans over, jabs his fork unceremoniously into Nico’s pie. “You’re welcome,” he grins.

~*~

“I like your mom. She’s cool.”

Will shrugs. “Well, she’s, you know, a mom. She can be pretty annoying at times. But yeah,” he smiles, “she’s great.”

“Your room, on the other hand, is a mess.” Nico looks down at the clothes and books littered around his feet.

Will laughs. “I didn’t think I’d be having anyone over, so I didn’t clean up.” He moves forwards, removing a pile of clothes from the middle of his bed, and pats it. “You can sit here.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “On your bed?”

The tips of Will’s ears go red. “There isn’t anywhere else to sit!” he cries. “Unless you want to sit on the floor?”

Nico laughs, shaking his head, and then carefully sits down at the edge of the bed. Will just toes off his shoes and collapses next to him, making Nico jostle.

His room is smaller than Nico’s, and about ten times as bright. His bedspread looks like painted sunshine, an array of yellow and orange, and even his wallpaper is a cheesy golden. There’s a desk to one side – cluttered with books and notes – and a closet across from it, both a light caramel wood that makes his room look even brighter.

The weirdest thing, though, at least in Nico’s opinion, are the absolutely huge windows right behind his bed, covered only by a thin white curtain. Almost floor to ceiling, they’re disproportionately big to the size of the room. Will hasn’t even turned on any lights in his room. Everything is illuminated by the flood of sunshine through the windows. It’s absolutely horrifying.

“How do you sleep with all this light in your room?” Nico asks, squinting dramatically.

“I like the light. It makes the room look much bigger than it is.” He leans back on his elbows. “Mom doesn’t understand why I don’t get drapes, especially because I have those ‘migraines’.”

Nico glances at him. “Isn’t she right? All this…” he stares at the window, “overstimulation can make the voices in your head worse, can’t they?”

Will shrugs, and Nico finds his eyes drawn to the shift of his torso underneath his shirt. “Some days the sunlight helps actually. Depends.”

Nico snaps his eyes back up. “On what?”

Will huffs a laugh. “Not sure. My mood? If I’m feeling cranky, I keep the blinds closed and the lights off. Mom says she can tell how I’m feeling most days by how bright my room is.”

“Do you realize you’re a Disney princess?”

Will throws back his head, laughs. The sunlight catches on the line of his neck. “Shut up.”

Nico shakes his head and looks away. His palms are wet. Another con to having so much sunlight washing into your room – it becomes oppressively hot.

He pulls his legs up on the bed so he’s sitting more comfortably, and then shrugs his jacket off. He’d taken it off during dinner, of course, and he doesn’t for the life of him understand why he put it back on.

His eye catches on a picture frame on Will’s bedside table when he turns to hang the jacket by the bedframe. It’s a picture of a blond man in a doctor’s coat, wide Will-like smile plastered on his face, with his arms around two teenagers, both with the same light hair and freckles Will has. They seem younger than Will though, maybe thirteen or fourteen.

“Is this your dad?” Nico asks, twisting around to face Will.

As soon as he does it, he freezes. Will’s eyes are wide, caught in the act, but he sits up quickly like he’s trying to shrug it off. Nico turns back to the picture frame, playing along, even though he is a hundred percent sure Will was just checking him out.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Nico found himself surrounded by attractive boys almost daily, but it wasn’t like he had a shot with any of them. Will, on the other hand…

After the two of them went separate ways this morning, Nico had to suffer through a whole half hour with Jason and Percy, one of whom wouldn’t stop preaching Nico about safe sex, while the other wouldn’t stop wiggling his eyebrows, bursting into high-pitched laughter, and repeatedly congratulating Nico on his ‘new boyfriend’.

Apparently, neither of them had picked up on the fact that Nico was so thoroughly confused as to why Will Solace would even have a boyfriend. It wasn’t until lunch when he ran into Piper (who proceeded to slap his butt in front of the entire student body) that he found out that Will was gay.

To be perfectly honest, Nico doesn’t know how he missed it. The guy’s been wearing rainbow sneakers all day. Nico pities him.

And now he’s sitting on Will’s bed way too close to him, he can’t help where his mind wanders. It’s not even that outlandish a thought, in fact. It certainly doesn’t seem that way to Will, who is currently leaning right into Nico’s personal bubble.

“Yeah it is,” Will says, plucking the photo off the table. Nico takes advantage of the movement to sneakily shuffle away from him so he can finally breathe.

“And these are his kids,” Will finishes.

A smile rises unbidden to Nico’s face. “You have a brother and sister?”

Will shrugs. “I suppose. I don’t really think of them that way.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well, I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck, “they’re his kids with his ex-wife, so – I mean, they’re not really family, you know? I wouldn’t even keep this in my room if my mom didn’t say so. She thinks I need to have a better relationship with all three of them or something.”

He hands Nico the photo frame like it’s burning him. Nico isn’t sure what to say. “Your parents are divorced?”

“Nope. They got engaged, but didn’t go through with it. She still kept his last name though. Said she wanted me to have it too.” He throws his hands up as if in exasperation, which just makes Nico frown deeper. “And then a few years later, he got married and had Kayla and Austin.” He snorts. “Still couldn’t stay married to their mom either though.”

Nico bites his lip. The brother and sister in the picture smile bright crooked grins up at him. The girl’s hugging her father’s side and the brother looks like he’s about to burst into laughter. They look so much like Will, Nico can’t bring himself to feel even a fraction as bitter about them as Will sounds.

“They live with your dad?” he asks.

Will nods. “At his expensive mansion house thing. And go to a private school. Living the life up there, they are.”

He almost grits his words out. Nico studies him. He’s equal parts surprised by this sudden new facet of Will’s personality, and saddened to hear all of this.

“At least he’s not an absent father,” he says quietly.

“Only for the first seven years of my life, but yeah, at least not anymore.” A vein jumps in Will’s jaw. “I go over there every other weekend. It’s not a court mandated thing, my mom makes me. And he’s always bought a bunch of things and planned a whole schedule of stuff we’re going to do together, as if I want to spend time with him.”

“Why do you go there, then?” Nico raises his eyebrows. “If you hate it so much.”

“Because he’s a renowned surgeon, and he knows people. People I’m hoping to study and then work under. Every weekend I go there, he introduces me to a new coworker of his. I get to ask them how whatever I want, they give me tips about everything. The only reason I’ve had the opportunity to do as much work experience as I have is because of the people I’ve met during those weekends.”

“So you’re using him, then?”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does, but he has to admit, it’s kind of pissing him off. Almost all of Nico’s friends have problems with their parents and Will’s father doesn’t sound like he’s that bad. If he’s made mistakes in the past, at least he’s making up for them now, which is more than Nico can say for most fathers.

Will fixes him with a dry stare. “He’s using them too. He knows I wouldn’t come to his house if he didn’t call them over so I could meet them.”

“So he wants you there,” Nico nods. “And he’s trying everything he can to keep you coming back. Sounds to me like he’s trying to reconnect with you.”

Will doesn’t even blink.

“Or… something…” Nico trails off.

Will exhales, long and slow, and then rubs at his face. “I know I sound unnecessarily harsh about all of this. I’m sorry, I don’t expect you to understand.”

Nico nods, turns away, and immediately Will pounces forwards. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly, “I just mean there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know – about the past and how he was before and how he is now. You’d just have to know all of that to understand why –“

“I get it,” Nico gives him a reassuring smile. “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

His expects Will to launch into apologies again, but instead he just smiles at Nico gratefully, and that’s when Nico realizes he really had overstepped. He had no idea Will was this sensitive about this.

The good thing is that he can already see the tension draining away from Will’s shoulders. He takes the photo from Nico’s hands and puts it back in its place. When he turns back to Nico, he looks uncertain and hesitant. Nico doesn’t say anything, and after a few seconds, Will says, “It is nepotism, isn’t it?”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “What is?”

“What he does,” he jolts his chin towards the picture frame. “And what his coworkers do for me. At the hospital.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure I’ll get into a med school because of his recommendation, just like how I get to do so many internships in hospitals because of him. And you were right what you said that day. It is nepotism, and it’s not fair to other kids, is it?”

Conflict plays plainly across his features. Nico knows if there was anyone else in his place, they would probably try to comfort and reassure him. But Nico knows better than that. “It is,” he agrees.

Will nods, not looking up. “I’ve known that for a while, but I just try to ignore it. I guess I’ve convinced myself I deserve it.”

“At least you’re going to put your knowledge to good use. I know I’ve never met anyone who’s more pumped up or determined than you are.”

He’s practically ducking his head to meet Will’s eyes, and when Will finally raises them, he’s smiling. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Nico returns his smile. “Still bad though,” he reminds him.

Will closes his eyes. “Yes. Still bad.”

“But you’ll do good.”

A smile spreads on Will’s lips and when he opens his eyes, it touches them too. “Thanks.” He huffs a laugh and Nico’s surprised to see a light blush on his cheeks. “Sorry about unloading my issues on you. You came here to meet my mom, not listen to me talk about my father all the time.”

“It’s okay,” Nico smiles back, “I like listening to you get emotional about stuff other than ghostly voices in your head. Makes you more… what’s the word?”

“Attractive?” Will smirks, pushing his hair back so it sticks up.

“Bearable,” Nico finishes.

Will gasps dramatically. “I cannot believe you would insult me in my own house, sitting on my own bed –“

Nico uncrosses his legs, plops his ankles onto the bedspread. “My bed now.”

Will’s mouth actually morphs into an O of surprise. It’s so ridiculous Nico starts laughing at his face. The next thing he knows, Will is trying to shove him off his bed, shouting, “This is my territory!” and Nico’s too busy wiping the tears out off his eyes to fight back.

He does manage to stand (sit?) his ground though, and eventually the two of them are hanging off opposite sides of the messy bed, trying to kick the other onto the floor. Nico’s so busy dodging the pillows being pelted at him, he almost misses the sudden sharp rap on Will’s open door.

He freezes when he sees Miss Solace standing at the threshold, arms folded, eyebrow raised. He shoots into a sitting position, patting down his hair and fixing his shirt. Meanwhile, Will stays where he is, half-lying on the floor, grinning lopsidedly up at her.

“What,” she says, “is going on here?”

Heat spreads through Nico’s cheeks. He looks, panicked, at Will, who just smiles at his mother and says, “Pillow fight.”

Miss Solace shakes her head. “And you didn’t think to invite me?”

Nico pauses in the middle of smoothing his shirt out and blinks. Up at Will’s mother and then at him. “Sorry?” Will says, giving her extra large pleading eyes.

She narrows her eyes at him. “I’ll let it go this time, but only if you clean up your bed.”

“What?” That gets Will into a sitting position. “Nico messed it up too!”

“Nico is the guest. Which is why he’s going to come downstairs and have ice cream with me while we watch Suits.”

“And I clean the bed?”

“And you clean the bed. Come on, Nico,” she smiles warmly at him, “we have mint chocolate chip.”

~*~

By the time Nico’s father calls him to come home already, Nico’s belly is full, eyes heavy and cheeks aching from smiling so much. He’s curled up on an armchair, playing Monopoly and drinking the most mouth-watering vanilla tea in the world. Vanilla tea. Who knew there was such a thing? And it tastes freaking amazing. Nico has been reborn.

The lights are turned low, and while the TV is on, it’s muted. The Solaces play the board game with so much gusto it warms Nico’s heart. He can’t decide who celebrates every house and hotel louder – Will or his mother. Nico’s not half as interested in the game as he is in watching them play it. Entertainment and vanilla tea. Such a good day.

He usually feels relieved when he has to go home at the end of a day of socializing, even when it’s with his closest friends. The thought of collapsing on his bed and burrowing underneath the covers, surrounded by silence and solitude and the occasional nosy ghost, is always so tempting. But when his father calls for him to come home, all he feels is disappointment. He just wants to stay where he is, bundled up and deliciously sleepy.

The disappointment is mirrored on Will’s face when he hangs up the phone. Nico feels a strange sort of satisfaction on seeing it, and he’s too content to try to deny it.

Miss Solace can tell he’s almost dead on his feet, so she offers to drop him off, but Will’s house is actually walking distance from Nico’s so he turns her down. She says goodbye to him with a tight squeeze for a hug and a coaxed promise that he’ll come back soon.

Will walks Nico out to the porch. The sunlight that washed into his room earlier is long gone. Even the moon is shadowed now, and Nico’s grateful for the streetlights.

Will buries his hands in his pockets, tilts back and forth on his heels. “Did you have fun today?”

Nico follows his nervous tics, the smile on his face growing even more. “I did. Your mom is great. And really excitable.”

“Oh, you have no idea. You should come over this Saturday. She always goes crazy hyper on Saturdays.”

“Sounds fun.” Nico pulls his jacket closer around him. The wind is abnormally cold, biting at his cheeks and pinching him out of his sleepiness. He misses the warmth and comfort of his armchair inside.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to though,” he continues. “I’ve got nothing to do on Saturday right now, but you never know.”

Will stops rocking himself. “Oh.”

“But I’ll definitely try.”

He smiles brighter. “Okay. That’d be great.”

They stand there for a while, not saying anything, and usually by now Nico would be worrying he’s being boring or that the silence has gone long enough to be awkward, but it doesn’t feel like that. This feels comfortable.

So of course Nico ruins it by sneezing three consecutive times all over Will.

“Wow,” Will laughs, “And I thought we were having a moment.”

Nico presses his sleeve to his nose. “I’m so sorry!”

“Nah, it’s okay. My mom can still drive you, you know. You shouldn’t be walking around outside if you’re cold.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Nico waves him off and steps onto the sidewalk. “Won’t be as bad when I’m walking. I guess should get going then.”

“Guess you should,” Will starts back-tracking to his house. “It was a pleasure spending the day with you. See you tomorrow at school, partner!”

Nico makes sure to let out the loudest and most annoyed groan possible before walking away.

~*~

His bed is one of the most beautiful things he has ever laid eyes on. Sent from heaven on the wings of angels, stuffed with clouds and stitched from the night sky. Nico has never been so glad to throw his body against something.

He’s not even sure he took off his shoes, and he doesn’t care. His eyelids droop, droop, and fall shut.

And then he feels it. Like someone waving their hand in front of his closed eyes, or a stare boring into the back of his neck. There’s someone in the room with him.

He only has to open his eyes to see her. She’s sitting right next to his bed on the floor, her nose inches away from his temple. He stares at the ceiling, suddenly hyperaware of everything – the sheets beneath him, the breath trapped in his lungs, the presence beside him. She stares at him, her gaze like two pinpricks digging into his skin.

He doesn’t realize he’s waiting for her to say something for a long while, and then he deeply, truly wishes Will was here. He can’t do anything about that now, though, so he just steels himself, exhales, and turns on his side.

Her face is so much closer than he thought it would be. Wide bottomless pits for eyes, and a small blue mouth. Her face is dusted with freckles and slashes with knife marks drained of blood. Her hair hangs into her eyes, too close to his face. Her fingers are digging into the side of his bed, nailbeds broken and ripped. He doesn’t know her but he can feel her pain. He can see her pain.

As he watches, a luminescent tracks its way down her cheek. She has no eyes but the way her mouth trembles and her fingers dig deeper, he knows she’s begging him.

Nico remembers when he used to be terrified of them. When he used to hide underneath his covers, lock himself in rooms, run across school grounds to get away from them. It took him years to become nonchalant about them, to see them as just another piece of furniture, albeit dead.

But that solution wasn’t any better. Now he’s met Will and he knows he can make a difference.

Will’s already hell-bent that his purpose in life is to help and heal the living. So maybe Nico can help the dead.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, “I’ll help you. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry sooooooo sorry for the delay. tbh i can't even promise that the next updates will be quick, but i will DEFINITELY TRY to be more faithful to this story. if anyone is still reading this, THANK YOU FOR STICKING AROUND. i will update as soon as possible.  
> oh and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re kidding. Nothing?”

Will takes another bite of his wrap. “Nope.”

“Not even a whisper?”

“Well, there’s hardly ever _nothing_. They’re always talking. But I can tune them out. Like a buzzing.”

Nico frowns. There’s some Thousand Island sauce on his bottom lip. “So how do you hear one?”

“Before I met you, I couldn’t really. All of them would start shouting at the same time and I’d spend the whole day holding my head and cursing my life.” Will winces at the memory of it. Like a burning hot stake plunged into his head through his temples. Meeting Nico di Angelo has been a relief in more ways than one.

“But now they’ve quietened,” he continues. “And the last ghost – the one with the sister? He was the only one I heard. Everyone else was either buzzing or just staying silent.” 

Nico raises his eyebrows. “Like they were waiting their turn?”

“I don’t know. Something like that, I guess.”

“But you didn’t hear the girl I saw last night?” Nico sucks the sauce off his fingertips. He’s one of those people who don’t know how to eat gigantic burgers, and as a result, has made a complete mess of himself _and_ aforementioned burger. 

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. It was just the same buzzing over and over.”

Nico scrunches up his face. “How do you even deal with that? I would go crazy if there was a constant noise in my head.”

Will laughs humorlessly. “You have no idea,” he mutters, picking green peppers out of his food. “Can’t even watch porn without feeling like I’m exposing myself to the whole world.”

“Um.” When he looks up, Nico’s cheeks are flushed. 

“Not that I do it, obviously,” Will adds hurriedly. “For the same reason.”

“Uh huh,” Nico nods. “So… no voice?”

“No voice.”

Nico lets out a defeated sigh and leans back in his seat. Will looks away, trying to ignore how bad he feels at simply disappointing him. 

The fast food restaurant they’re in is only a fifteen minute walk away from school and therefore almost always full of their schoolmates. Even now, when Will casts his gaze around him from the booth they’re both sitting in, he can spot five different tables occupied by people he’s seen in school. The only ones they know are Piper and Jason sitting a few feet away. Will’s not going to pretend he hasn’t noticed how many times Jason’s given the two of them thumbs up. Nico already warned Will that Jason was the Incredibly Encouraging Straight Friend to Nico’s Tiny Angry Gay Boy, but Will had extremely underestimated Jason’s powers.

And everyone else’s too. All of their schoolmates seemed obsessed with the two of them. Will couldn’t talk to Nico alone without everyone around them in a five meter radius bursting out in giggles.

That’s what had happened in school today too. Nico had cornered him, eyes determined and voice urgent, wanting to talk about a teenage girl’s ghost that had visited him last night and stayed by his bedside until morning. But every time he leaned in close to whisper Ultra Classified Ghost Whisperer Stuff to Will, someone would walk by, glancing at them and sniggering to their friends. They’re obviously only just watering the rumors of them being a couple.

He doesn’t understand why people are so interested, to be honest. It’s not like either of them are especially popular. According to Lou Ellen, though, it’s because they’re both boys. “The student body is excited about their first resident gay couple,” she told him as she doodled on her jeans. “A lot of them are being overly supportive to prove they’re allies or something. Some of the girls are just excited about how ‘cute’ you are. It’s not a problem unless someone gives you a hard time.” She blew on her pen’s tip. “I can’t wait to be in college and away from the mess that is high school.”

They couldn’t seem to find two seconds to talk the entire school day, which was why they were having lunch together. Will was somehow grateful for that, though. He already saw Nico as a friend but he wasn’t sure the feeling was mutual. Nico was completely unreadable, at least to him. It was highly possible that Nico would only want to be around him when they had to deal with various ghostly shenanigans, so Will was willing to milk it for all it was worth.

All for the sake of friendship, of course.

“I don’t understand.” Nico’s glaring down at the napkins, voice rough with frustration. “Why didn’t she come to you?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know about me.”

Nico shakes his head. “I told her about you. I was awake talking to her for like an hour.”

“Talk about one-sided conversations.”

“I’m serious, Will.” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “I told her to just follow me in the morning and that she could talk to you at school but I haven’t seen her at all since I left my house.”

“Did she change her mind about needing our help?”

He shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t seem likely. You didn’t see her last night. She was so…” he trails off, staring into the distance at nothing.

Will watches him, curious. He’s never seen him this agitated. He even messed up his hair. “So?”

Nico’s eyes snap back to his. “Desperate.” He leans forward. “We need to help her, Will.”

He clenches his jaw as he says it. Will’s noticed that he does that a lot whenever he’s talking about something he cares about – goes on the defensive. 

Will nods, letting him know they’re on the same time. “Okay. How?”

Nico looks away. “I don’t know. I just can’t understand why she wouldn’t talk to you.”

“Maybe…” Will throws his hands up, “Maybe she can’t speak or understand English?”

Nico gives him a dry glance. “I don’t think language barriers would be a problem for the dead. And anyway, if she can’t, that means she’s probably not even from our town – or America, from that matter. Then there would be absolutely no way to help her.”

“Okay, then, for simplicity’s sake, let’s say she _is_ from here, and she _can_ understand us. There’s probably some other reason she couldn’t be here today.”

“Doesn’t mean we should decide not to help her.”

“But we need to know her name to help her, Nico,” Will sighs. “Look, I’m with you, okay? But we can’t know how she died or her history or anything unless she talks to us. _Or_ unless we find out her name. That would at least be a starting point. So help me out here.”

Nico doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he folds his arms on the table, brow furrowed in thought. “She didn’t have any eyes.”

“Yes, Nico, you mentioned. I’m eating here.”

“ _No_ , I meant can that help?”

“Unless there’s an online directory for people with no eyes, I don’t think so.”

Nico groans and drops his head to the table. Will surreptitiously nudges his hair away from the food. 

“Do you want to know the name of the disease that babies with one eye or no eyes have?”

Nico gives him a withering glare from between his arms.

“Good, I can’t remember it anyway. I’ll have to ask Dr. Mannen when the internship starts next week.”

Nico lifts his head slowly. “What did you say?”

“Oh, sorry, I haven’t told you about it, have I? He’s this orthopedic surgeon who’s a friend of my father’s and he agreed to let me –“

“No,” Nico grabs his arm. “The hospital! If she died there, she’d be at the morgue or something, right?”

“Probably,” Will agrees. “But how does that help us?”

“If we find her body there, we could find her information too.”

“Again, how does that help us? There’s no way we’d be allowed to do any of that.”

“But…” Nico blinks. “Can’t you?”

Will huffs a laugh. “My dad is the surgeon, Nico, not me.”

“But aren’t you friends with the people down in the morgue or something? The doctors or something?”

“I’ve met some of the pathologists but I’m only friends with – or at least, _friendly_ with – the main assistant.”

Nico’s hand tightens on his arm. He gives Will a meaningful, pleading look. 

“Nico, I’ve never tried to ask her if I could look at the dead bodies. I don’t even know if she’ll let me.”

He doesn’t budge.

“We don’t even know if she died there! Or when she died. The bodies only stay in the morgue for a short while before they’re sent to a mortuary.”

“Please, Will. If there’s even a slightest chance it’ll work.” His hand slips down his arm and onto his hand, which he squeezes like there’s no tomorrow.

Will doesn’t know if he should be happy he’s holding hands with Nico or embarrassed that Nico knows that’ll change his mind. 

Either way, it works. Sighing, he starts to signal the waitress for the bill. “This better not blow my spot on the internship program,” he tells a grinning Nico.

He doesn’t let go of his hand.

~*~

Fifteen minutes later, they’re in a cab towards the city. They’ve already decided on a plan and how they’ll convince the assistant to let them see the bodies. Will can tell that despite Nico’s insistence earlier, he’s nervous about what will happen when they do get to the hospital, so he distracts him by talking about the internship. 

Somehow, the conversation derails to medical schools, and Nico interrupts him with a “Hey, where do the dead bodies you dissect in medical schools come from?”

“They’re donated,” Will answers. “Way back in the old times, people actually snatched bodies and donated them to hospitals for money, but now there are laws and organizations that arrange everything if you want to donate your body for science.”

Nico wrinkles his nose. “And then med students cut into you? What about your family?”

“What about them? They still get your remains when the students are done. To bury or cremate or whatever.”

“Yeah but…” he shakes his head, “aren’t they disturbed by the thought of complete strangers cutting into their loved one’s dead body?”

“If they are, they shouldn’t be. It’s a good thing. They’re teaching future doctors, who are going to go on and use that knowledge to save lives. Besides, if everyone thought like that, med schools probably wouldn’t get any cadavers at all.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying I could never stomach the thought of something like that happening to one of my family members.”

Even though he’s trying to calm Nico’s nerves, he can’t suppress the frown that rises on his face. He quickly looks out the window at the roads rushing by so Nico can’t see.

Unfortunately for him, Nico is already leaning forward. “Are you… angry?” he asks, amused.

“No.” Even to his own ears, he sounds put-out.

Nico laughs. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

He nudges closer to Will, who sighs. Nico really needs to stop using close proximity as an advantage over Will.

“I just,” Will slouches into the seat, “don’t like it when people think like that. Donating your body to science is a good thing. A really good, admirable thing. You get to help people even when you’re dead. How great is that?”

“Really great,” Nico agrees. His face is close enough that Will feels the puffs of his breath against his cheek. He never noticed how Nico’s nose ends in a slight bump. 

“Then why aren’t you in favor of it?”

“Of course I am. I’m just saying I wouldn’t want, say, Hazel to do it.”

Will’s frown resurfaces. “That would be her choice, not yours.”

“I know that too,” Nico says, smiling. “You’re getting so _angry_.”

Will lets out a defeated sigh, training his eyes at the ceiling of the cab. “That’s because I want to do it.”

Beside him, Nico lets out a gleeful gasp. “You want to donate your body?”

Will glances at him from the corner of his eye. Nico’s got one leg on the seat so he can turn to face Will fully. It’s heart-wrenchingly adorable how happy he is right now. Will is absolutely disgusted. “Yes.”

“That sounds like something you would do.”

“Do you disapprove?”

Nico laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. “No, of _course_ not. Not that it would make a difference.”

“Good,” Will sits up straighter. “Besides, it’s not like it would be me anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“It would just be my dead body. This is like,” he picks at his skin, “a vessel for our soul or something, right?”

Nico laughs again. “Well, _yeah_ , but that doesn’t mean it’s not a part of you.”

“Sure.” Will nods. “But once I die, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just flesh and bone and a heart that can’t beat anymore. What actually mattered isn’t there.” He shrugs. “So no one should be upset if I’m getting cut into or buried in the ground or burned in an incinerator. They _should_ be worried that I might be, like, getting tortured in hell or whatever.”

He expects Nico to agree. Everyone he’s ever talked to about this has. Granted, that’s only been his Lou Ellen and a general surgeon who held this exact same belief. 

Nico instead, shakes his head, giving Will a look like he’s stupid. All traces of laughter are gone from his face. 

“That’s not the way it works, Will,” he says. There’s something unidentifiable in his voice. “You can’t just expect people to throw away your body after you die. They would have to be completely heartless to do that.”

“I’m not saying they should. Just that they shouldn’t be really upset if that’s what I want. It’s not just a corpse, anyway. It’s not like it matters.”

Nico stares at him for so long, Will can feel sweat beating on his hands. Then finally, in a strangled voice, he says, “You’ve never had a loved one die, have you?”

Ice floods his veins. Internally kicking himself, he manages to stutter out a _no._

Nico turns to sit properly. “Makes sense.”

“Nico, I didn’t mean –“

“I know. It’s not your fault. I just…” he chews at his lip, “don’t think you should say that kind of stuff out loud.”

“Okay, I won’t, I promise. Can we forget I ever said that?”

Nico nods, pulling his jacket closer around himself. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride.

~*~

They make it through the hospital just fine, which Will already anticipated. A few people say hello to him – all normal, considering he’s here almost every week. One of the nurses asks him if she should let his dad know he’s here, but Will convinces her not to bother him. It probably won’t hinder their plan but Will would rather not see him right now, especially when he’s still feeling like a complete idiot over what he said to Nico.

Right before they enter the morgue, he stops Nico with a hand on his elbow. “Are we okay?” he asks quietly.

Nico rolls his eyes. “I told you, yes. Don’t worry about it.”

“I promise I won’t ever –“

He raises his hand. “I know. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. It’s really okay.” He squares his shoulders. “Now, do you remember the plan?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do this.”

~*~

The morgue is basically the basement of the hospital, walls at long intervals to section it off. Every section is a long, wide, blinding white room filled with strong metal tables and lined with shelves that hold medical equipment. The back wall of each section is checkered with stainless steel handles – drawers full of the dead.

The place is empty, save for the pathologist assistant Will knew would be here. When she sees Will, she hops off her chair where she was going through a folder and warmly greets him. It surprises Will, who hadn’t thought she would even remember who he was.

She’s in her early forties, even taller than Will, and always has a million clips and ties in her hair. When Will first met her he called her Miss Schmidt, but she insists he call her Annie.

He introduces her to Nico, trying to sound calm and collected. His heart is rattling against his ribcage, and he needs to wipe his hands on his jeans every few minutes. 

Nico, however, seems completely natural. He shakes her hand, gives her a charming smile, even makes her laugh and pat his back. 

Has he done this before? Will can’t believe he’s been rubbing elbows with a criminal mastermind.

“I’m off to the cafeteria in a few minutes,” Annie says during a lull in the conversation. “Would you boys like to join me? I can drop you by your father’s office when we’re done.”

Nico glances at Will as if to say _go time._

“Uh, actually, there’s a reason we came in here,” Will speaks up. “We need your help.”

“Oh?” She looks between them. “Is everything alright?”

“No, it’s not.” Nico casts his eyes to the floor and bites his lip. Will actually wants to comfort him. “One of my friends ran away from home a week ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“We don’t know where she is now, but today, I had the awful feeling something bad happened to her.” Slowly, he lifts his eyes to her. He looks almost on the verge of tears. “I’m afraid she might have died on the side of the street and the authorities just thought she was a homeless person.”

Annie covers her mouth with one hand, pity and pain written plainly across her features. “Oh, you poor thing,” she whispers.

“I told Nico that if that had happened, they would’ve likely brought her over here,” Will puts in. “In case there was still a chance to save her.”

“But there’s no record of her in the hospital rooms.” Nico rubs his eyes. A good liar _and_ a good actor. Will is completely done for. “Is she… is she here?”

He looks at the wall of cold chambers at the back of the morgue, which is a good move, because Annie pivots to glance at them too. 

“Of course I could check.” She hurries to a clipboard set on one of the long metal tables. “What’s her name? It’ll be listed here.”

“Not if they thought she was homeless,” Nico says quickly. “I can tell you what she looked like though. And if you know she’s here, you can show her to me. I’ll recognize her.”

Annie hesitates.

“Please,” Nico hugs his jacket closer, widens his eyes. Will is _gone_. “I _need_ to know if she’s here.”

For a second he thinks Annie’s going to kick them out. Then she jerkily nods. “Alright, but quickly. There are probably rules against this and Dr. Foster’s lunch break is almost over.”

“She’s a teenager,” Nico says, already moving towards the back wall. “But she can look older, so you might think she’s in her 20s? She has dark hair like this long, and has freckles.”

“Teenage girl?” Annie taps her pen against her thigh as she surveys the clipboard. “We only have three teenage girls here right now, one admitted without a name. There were six more today but they’ve already been moved out.” She looks up. “Would you like me to tell you the names of the other two girls? Maybe one of them is it.”

Nico blinks. “I – that – um,” he flounders. “I don’t think –“

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Will says loudly. “You can’t tell people the names of patients without their consent, can you?”

“Yes, we can’t,” Annie nods. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m just…” she glances at the door, “on edge.”

“That’s fine,” Nico says. “You can leave the room if you want. That way you won’t be involved. Just tell me what, uh, _drawers_ the three girls are in and I’ll check them out.”

“I’m not sure if I should leave you unsupervised –“

“Please, Annie,” Will begs. “He hasn’t slept in two days, and I don’t even remember the last time he ate.” He puts a hand on Nico’s shoulder, squeezes. “He needs this.”

She hesitates, glancing between the boys, the chambers and the door. Finally, she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “Those three drawers are the ones.” She taps at them with her pen, apparently not too concerned about them forgetting which ones they are. It doesn’t matter though – Will quickly files them in his memory.

“I’m giving you five minutes.” She sets down the clipboard and her pen, then moves across the room and opens the door. “After that, I’m afraid you must leave.”

Nico gives her a wide, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

As soon as she leaves, Nico turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “Hasn’t slept in two days?”

“Hey, your dark circles sell it. Besides, I was just ad-libbing.” He elbows Nico. “ _You’re_ the real actor here.”

Nico shrugs, then turns to the drawers. “Wasn’t completely acting.”

Before Will can ask, Nico is unceremoniously yanking a drawer open and all of a sudden, they’re both inches away from a pale, cold, unmoving human corpse.

The familiar chill he felt when they found the dead body in that abandoned house washes all over him again. There’s complete silence in the room – you could hear a pin drop. It’s funny how being around dead bodies surrounds him with absolute stillness, while their ghosts wreak pandemonium in his head.

“Wow,” Nico says, swallowing hard.

“She has eyes. This isn’t her, right?”

“No.” He quickly shakes his head and then, much more gently this time, closes the drawer. “Which one is next?”

It’s the same with the next one. This girl is dark-skinned and looks way too young to be a teenager. Nico doesn’t even look at her for five seconds, and then makes Will close the drawer. When he raises his hand to open the next one, it’s shaking.

She looks athletic, with long thick hair and olive skin. Her cheeks and shoulders and peppered with freckles, ones that he can’t even see because of how pale she is. And there, above her nose – two gaping holes where her eyes should be.

And even though Will isn’t a doctor, he knows this wasn’t because of a disease or birth defect. He can see the signs of old infections deep inside the eye sockets – the scars on the rims.

Someone burned her eyes out of her.

Nico whimpers and then he’s leaning heavily against Will, who scrambles to hold him up. “I didn’t know –“ Nico says shakily, “They don’t look like – they look so blurry when they’re ghosts. I had no idea her eyes –“

“It’s okay.” Will winds his arms around Nico, who presses his face into Will’s shoulder. 

“Who could do this?” Nico mumbles.

“I don’t know,” Will says. Slowly, without jostling him, he forces himself to raise a hand and shut the drawer. “But we’ll find out.”

He sighs in relief once they can’t see her anymore, then takes a hold of Nico’s arms. “It’s okay. I closed the drawer.”

Nico lifts his head, wipes his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says thickly, “I’m not usually –“

“It’s alright.”

“ _No_ , you don’t understand. I’m never this squeamish. I was fine even when we found that poor man underneath that house, remember?”

“It’s fine.” Will rubs his arm. “You’re allowed to get scared sometimes.”

“It’s not about being scared. She just…” he shakes his head once, “looks like someone I know.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Nico presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Will gives him a moment. He keeps rubbing his arm – Nico doesn’t seem to mind it. Finally, Nico looks up and gives him a smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Will smiles back. “So do you want to check her name?” He points with his thumb over his shoulder at the clipboard.

He doesn’t have to ask twice. With one eye at the door, Nico slips towards the table and starts flipping through the papers attached to the clipboard. It takes him a minute to match the number on the drawer with the one on the list, but when he finally does, he closes his eyes in what looks life defeat.

“What?” Will comes closer. “What is it?”

Nico holds up the clipboard so Will can see. “Jane Doe,” he says, frustration lacing every word. “She hasn’t been identified.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i had to rush this so i could get it out before eid, otherwise this wouldn't be up until tuesday, if we were lucky.  
> anyway, i hope you guys liked this! let me know how it was.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well, _that_ was a waste of time,” Will complains. He bumps shoulders with Nico as they walk from the hospital entrance to the gate. Nico’s not sure if he did that on purpose, but it derailed the pebble Nico’s kicking off-course, so he frowns at him anyway.

Nico kicks the pebble back in front of him. “It wasn’t that bad. I know what she looks like now, without all the blurriness and darkness. I just wish we could find out some more details about her.”

“We can,” Will tosses the pebble up into the air using the toe of his sneaker, like a football. “Using the Doe Network, or NamUs.”

“What are those?”

“Online databases that anyone can access. You can find any unidentified or missing person there if you know how to look for them. I don’t know if it’s state law to enter the details of every Doe found into the database, but I know this hospital does it.” Will looks over his shoulder at the tall six storey building. “My father told me so.”

“So you think we’ll be able to read whatever we want about her online?” Nico frowns. “That sounds too easy, for some reason.”

“I think it’s great. In fact,” he takes out his phone and unlocks it. “I’m going to look it up right now.”

His fingers race over the screen. The glow from it makes his eyes seem unearthly blue. “Are you sure you still can’t hear her voice?” Nico asks.

Will nods without looking at him. “I can hear other voices, like a constant buzz, but hers isn’t there. Either she isn’t talking or I have a blind spot. To be honest, I’m not complaining.”

Nico’s pebble bounces against the gravel underneath their feet. His heart feels just as jumpy. He still hasn’t completely recovered from seeing that poor girl’s dead body. “What do you think they’ll do with her?” he wonders aloud. “Jane Doe?”

Will puffs up his cheeks and blows air out of his mouth. “I’m not sure. I think the state pays for their burials, but I could be wrong.” He throws Nico an amused glance. “I don’t know _everything_ to do with the hospital, you know.”

“You trail a surgeon here three times a week, _and_ you’re starting an internship with Dr Mannen on Monday. I would think that would give you a fair amount of information.”

Will lifts his head from his phone and stares at Nico for a few seconds. A slow smile spreads across his face.

“What?” Nico asks, suppressing the urge to fix his hair.

“I can’t believe you remembered all that,” Will marvels. “Usually people zone out when I start talking about medicine. Even my mom.”

Nico shrugs, feeling hot all of a sudden. “It’s interesting, I guess?” He motions to the gate. “Can we keep going?”

With a grin on his lips, Will nods and starts walking, eyes fixed on his screen once more. Nico falls into step beside him, feeling stupid for being so flustered. He even left his pebble behind, goddammit.

“Okay, here it is.” Will clears his throat. “She’s called the Eyeless Jane Doe. They give most of the unidentified people nicknames so they can differentiate between them easily.”

“Wonder how they chose _that_ nickname,” Nico mutters. 

“Between the ages of sixteen to twenty years… approximately five feet seven inches tall, weighed between 110 and 130 pounds –“

“Like anyone would have the weight of their missing daughter memorized,” Nico scoffs. “Get to the good stuff.”

Will nods to the security guards standing by the gate, and they tip their caps back. They know a bus that’s leaving for their town so, the two of them turn onto the sidewalk and start heading towards the nearest bus stop.

“Okay, let me see.” Will scrolls down the website. “She was found on the side of the highway leading into the city, hidden in the underbrush. Probably dumped by whoever killed her, or crawled there to keep warm. Cause of death was blood loss from three cuts on her arms, two at her stomach, and one –“ he winces, “a _hole_ that pierced right through her calf.”

“Not the eyes?”

“No. The scar tissue around the eyes was about five months old. Badly infected, so she either didn’t have access to medical facilities, or was withheld from them. Her eyes were treated, obviously, otherwise all that bleeding would have killed her months ago.”

“Sounds like someone was prolonging her torture.” Nico stares at the buildings and cars and pedestrians around him. “Who would do something like that?”

“There are plenty of sickos out there, Nico. A lot more than you’d think.” Will’s eyes skip over the phone screen. “Race was difficult to determine, but she wasn’t Caucasian or African-American. Waist-length dark hair, petite but muscular frame… dental hygiene had apparently been neglected for the past year or so, but she had no fillings. She was wearing a silver parka, a plain grey T-shirt, blue jeans, blue flip-flops and…” He narrows his eyes. “No other items were found on her person, because she didn’t have pockets.” He frowns at Nico. “But she was wearing jeans?”

“Women’s jeans pockets are normally sewn shut.” Nico’s pretty well-acquainted with this fact – he’s had to borrow jeans from Hazel one too many times when his have been dirty. Thank the Lord his growth spurt hit, otherwise Hazel would still be insisting he borrow from her instead of getting new ones.

“ _What_? Why?”

“So they’ll buy more bags and purses to hold their stuff in. It’s a huge conspiracy. Keep going.”

Looking more unsettled by women not having jean pockets than this girl not having eyes, Will continues, “Her body apparently had considerable wear and tear. Feet had calluses consistent with an everyday runner. Hands had calluses consistent with someone doing hard labor or someone using weapons.”

“Like guns?”

Will shakes his head. “It says here they could have been knives or a bow and arrow. That’s strange. People don’t use bows and arrows as weapons anymore.”

“Maybe she practiced it in high school, like Frank and –“ 

He cuts himself short just in time. The name sits heavy on his tongue. Will raises his eyebrows at him but Nico just gestures at him to go on.

“Um… okay. Her fibula and ulna had fractured at unknown times earlier, and been set back and regrown very badly – a leg and arm bone. She had various healed cuts all over her body, but –“ he sighs in relief, “there was no sign of genital mutilation, sexual abuse and had never been pregnant before. She was also not underweight, but just barely so.”

Nico rubs his eyes, barely sidestepping a buff man who almost barreled straight into him. “That’s good.”

“There’s not much else. Here’s a reconstruction they did of her face, with generic brown eyes added in. It said that judging by the paleness of her body and the fact that she probably had some nutrient deficiencies, she might have been darker-skinned than seemed.”

They sit by the bench at the bus stop and he passes his phone over to Nico. The photograph on the screen is of a somber-looking teenage girl with a deep tan and small brown eyes. Her hair is stringy and runs down her shoulders, and her face is peppered with freckles.

Her stare is empty, lifeless. The way her body is positioned in proportion to her head is unnatural, and the flatness of her face strange. He knows it’s because this is a computer reconstruction, so there are obviously little faults in the big picture that he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint but will innately know are wrong. 

Still, something about her face rings his alarm bells. He has no idea what it is.

“There’s a picture of her without eyes too,” Will adds. “For accuracy.”

Nico hands Will the phone, but can’t tear his eyes off the photo. “Can you download both pictures and send them to me? And the website link?”

Will studies him. “Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Nico trains his eyes on the approaching bus and tries to sync his breathing with the slowly moving wheels. “I’m not really comfortable with all this.”

Will pockets his phone. “I can imagine.”

“It’s not the same when it’s a girl that young, you know? It’s not a grown man anymore. I mean, I know all human lives are equally valuable, but… there’s just something so incredibly wrong with it being a teenage girl.”

Will is silent for so long, Nico has to check to see if he hasn’t popped in his earphones because of how whiny Nico is being. But Will is just silently running his eyes over Nico’s face, like trying to memorize his expressions for an upcoming exam.

Nico stares at him back, trying to make Will’s gaze falter. It works with everyone, from Frank to Reyna, but Will doesn’t budge an inch. Even more surprisingly, he _doesn’t_ look defiant or challenging, like he’s going to win this blinking contest no matter what. 

He stares at Nico like he doesn’t want to look away.

The blare of the bus horn breaks them out of their trance. Nico practically jumps off the bench and into the bus. Will follows him at a slow even pace. 

Nico sits by the window. The seats are narrow enough for Will to be justified in sitting as close as he does. Their arms brush constantly, and if it wasn’t for his faithful aviator jacket, there would be skin-on-skin contact. As it is, just the knowledge that Will keeps looking over is enough to make him break out in shivers.

~*~

They’re standing at the bus stop across from the pizza place Hazel loves, only ten minutes away from Nico’s house, watching the bus rumble away. He wonders if he should order a large pepperoni for Hazel before he goes home.

Will turns to him. “So what’s the plan?”

Nico shrugs. “I’m not sure. We haven’t seen or heard Jane all day. Maybe…” he squints at Will thoughtfully. “Maybe we should go out to the highway where she was found. Try to look for clues. She might come to us then.”

“I’m up for it.” Will gazes up at the sky. “Not today, though. It’ll take us an hour to get there at least, and it’ll be dark by then.”

“Okay, tomorrow then.” Nico waves at Will. “See you. Bye.”

Will turns to him, startled. “What? But it’s barely five.”

“Yeah, but I have a lot of homework to do. I bet you do too.”

“It’s Friday. Do you seriously do homework on the first day of the weekend?”

No, actually, Nico likes to put it off until the last second. Jason calls Nico a nerd but _Jason’s_ the one who has all his textbooks and notes out the very second he gets home from school. 

Nico shrugs. “I could, this time. Besides, we can meet up tomorrow.”

“I can’t.” Will glares into the distance. “I have to stay with my father for the weekend. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh. So I’ll be going to the highway by myself?” He can’t help but cringe. He’s only fourteen so he doesn’t have a license – even though he knows how to drive – and just the thought of asking his father to take him over to a specific spot on the highway is horrifying. Not to mention, he doesn’t look forward to being at Jane Doe’s grassy deathbed all by himself. 

Will grins slightly as Nico’s obvious disgust. “You don’t have to. We can go together on Monday. Make a mini road trip of it.” He runs a hand through his curls and sighs. “Dad weekend interferes with my life once again.”

“Not too excited about seeing him, huh?”

Will snorts. “Spend two days at his mansion with his overeager self for company? No, thanks.”

“Don’t you have fun with his kids?”

“Not really. They’re rich and smart and talented and stuff – we don’t really have a lot in common.”

Nico stares at him incredulously. Will might not be rich, but he’s plenty smart and talented. Nico doesn’t know any other person in their whole school who takes their future career as seriously as Will does and is already deeply entrenched in how it works, with the possible exception of Annabeth. But she’s _Annabeth_ , so that’s a given.

“And then on Monday my internship starts,” Will continues, gesticulating with his hands, “and it’s going to take up two hours after school ends every weekday, so we’ll have to leave for the highway as soon as it ends. I’m going to have to do some serious multi-tasking so we can spend time with each other.”

Nico’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. “So you… want to? Spend time together?”

He’s not sure if it’s the red neon sign of the pizza place, or if Will’s really blushing. “I… yeah.” Will buries his hands in his pockets and looks at Nico from beneath his eyelashes. “Don’t you?”

Nico’s barely been able to catch his breath all day. His stomach is still roiling slightly from all the horrifying things he’s seen and heard. But even through all that, his treacherous mind is still going _damn Will looks so good when he’s all bashful like that._

“Okay.” His voice comes out faint and distant. He clears his throat. “Okay, yeah. If that’s what you want, we can go to my house right now if you want. There’s nothing much to do there but if you really want to…“

Will is already nodding enthusiastically, his curls bobbing up and down along with him. “I really want to.” He rubs his hands together gleefully. “Let’s do this.”

Nico laughs a little at his excitement, and then starts leading him down the street, all the while praying his dad won’t be home.

~*~

“Nico.”

“Yes?”

“Are you rich?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because this,” Will spreads his arms and spins in a slow circle on the porch, “is a pretty big house.”

Nico shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. “It’s inherited. Old money and all that.”

“Nico,” Will points at the front door. “You guys have a three-headed dog-shaped knocker on your door. You’re rich.” He frowns. “And creepy.”

“Look, we did a lot of remodeling when I was a little kid.” Nico opens the door and lets Will in, trying not to laugh out loud at the sheer amount of awe on Will’s face. “The house was way too big and expensive to handle, so they knocked a bunch of it down. Two whole wings, I think.” He moves to the little alcove in the corner and starts toeing off his shoes. Will follows suit. “With the extra room left over, Dad built a back garden for us. An archery range. Stuff like that.”

He leads Will down the hallway to the living room. They stop every few seconds when Will pauses to look at a painting or a beautiful rug. “The house was ancient, so it was pretty hard to live here,” Nico continues, watching Will run suntanned fingers over the wallpaper. “Not enough outlets. No central heating. Rust and mildew everywhere. So Dad had everything redone. There’s only a teeny bit of the old house left. Everything else is new.”

And he’s right. The living room is nothing like the exterior of the house, which looks like a two-storey tall building trapped inside the pillars of a Greek temple. It doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful – it’s done in beautiful black, beige and white stones, is surrounded by their well-kept garden, and has the most amazing colorful mosaic in the centre of the huge stone triangle – the tympanum – that sits on top of entrance.

Nevertheless, it looks more like a museum and less like someone’s home.

Inside is a whole different story. Although there are still paintings, curtains, cabinets, and even silverware that is hundreds of years old, most of the house looks like any other. Gleaming kitchen counters and shiny stainless steel appliances. A mounted television, couches, a coffee table. There’s Hazel’s iPod dock, their books and their father’s files lying everywhere, socks and jackets hanging over furniture. Despite what it might seem, they don’t have a housekeeper – they only employ gardeners for the grounds. They rotate cleaning, cooking and washing duty between the three of them, and seeing as how their father is the only clean freak, there’s always some kind of mess.

Nico shoves Hazel’s homework and a bowl of toffee popcorn off of the couch so Will can sit down. “Do you want to drink anything?” he asks, turning off the television. “I’m not sure if we have anything – Hazel raids the fridge a lot – but I can check.”

“It’s fine.” Will’s face is still tilted upwards, eyes roving across the whole room. “You’ve got a great place.”

Nico sits down beside him. “Thanks.”

“I’m actually a bit embarrassed about my house now,” Will says sheepishly.

“Are you kidding? I loved your house. It was so comfy, and your bed was the best thing ever. Trust me, living in a big house with only two other people is not a great experience.” Nico pulls his feet up on the couch and hugs his knees. “Sometimes it’s really easy to convince myself that I’ve been living here all alone for ages. Most days, Dad’s at work, Hazel’s out studying or with her friends, and I’m here by myself. It makes it even scarier when I see a ghost with me.” He smiles at Will, trying to make him feel more welcome, like he had for Nico at his house. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Will laughs, relaxing into the couch cushions. “Thanks. This _is_ a really great house.” He runs his fingers down the arm of the sofa. “Reminds me of my father’s place. In a good way, though.”

“That’s good. Maybe his house will be a little more tolerable for you now.”

“Yeah, if I imagine I’m here with you and not there with him.” Will turns his head and gives Nico the softest smile yet.

Heat builds up underneath Nico’s collar. He smiles back, then looks away quickly.

Moments like these make him wonder if he and Will are really only _acting_ like they’re a couple, and if everyone in school is actually right about them ‘having incredible chemistry’. There’s definitely something there from Nico’s side of things, but he can’t decide if Will feels the same way or if he’s just being friendly and Nico’s misinterpreting things.

That would be typical of him. He’s never been very good at reading body language. Or letting go of things he wants. Which would explain why, for four years, he was in love with a guy who only saw him as a friend.

“Is your dad home?”

Nico turns to him. “No, I don’t think so. Even if he is, let’s hope he stays boarded up in his study.”

“And Hazel?”

“Probably out with Frank and the others. That’s what they do almost every Friday. She’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“So…” Will’s grin is bright and mischievous. “Do you think I could get the grand tour?”

Nico blinks, then laughs. Their house is big enough and interesting enough to make an incredibly entertaining tour, but whenever they have new guests over, Hazel always insists on showing them around. And she’s so good at it too, spreading her arms and smiling wide and rattling off everything they know about the house, that Nico lets her.

But this is Will’s first time here, and he’s never had a tour. It’s Nico’s time to shine.

Will can probably see the excitement on Nico’s face, because his smile just gets brighter and bigger. He starts jiggling up and down on the couch like he wants nothing more than to skip around the house excitedly.

Nico gets up, folds his hands formally behind his back and lifts his chin. “Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts –“ Will cackles happily and jumps up, “put your seats back and make sure your folding trays are in their full upright position –“ Will starts jumping up and down, a veritable ball of joy, “and we’ll start our tour.”

~*~

“Okay, I change my mind,” Will says, lips bright red from the Popsicles he and Nico found in the freezer. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the sky red and blue just like their Popsicles dripping down onto the gravel below their feet. The only thing left to show Will is the archery range, which is a ways away from the house. 

“This is nothing like my father’s mansion,” Will says. “This place is fun without trying to be!”

Nico almost snorts blue Popsicle water up his nose. “You’re only thinking that because this is your first time here. If you were living here, you wouldn’t think so.”

“But you have a huge hall just for sliding all over in your socks,” Will waves his arms around, almost lopping his Popsicle across the gardens. “You have those giant floor-to-ceiling windows so you can look at everything outside. Your attic is full of the most interesting things in the world. And I’m a hundred percent sure you have at least five hidden passageways here.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Annabeth’s always talking about how the measurements of the rooms don’t match up the way they should, like there’s secret rooms between them, but they would’ve discovered them during the remodeling if they really existed, right?”

Will’s eyes are wide blue saucers. “I was kidding, but _holy crap_ , you actually have secret rooms?” He punches the air. “Yes!”

“God, you’re like a little puppy,” Nico laughs, trying to sound disapproving. They reach a long, low building shaped like a loaf of bread. Nico reaches forward and grabs the handle on the large wooden double doors. “Now, if you’ll calm down, we can go and look at the archery range.”

“I’m calm,” Will says, jumping up and down, “One hundred percent.”

Rolling his eyes and fighting off a smile, Nico pushes the doors open and steps inside. Instantly, the smell of wood and dust wafts up to his nose. He reaches up to the wall beside the door and flicks on a switch. The light bulbs that hang at intervals across the ceiling buzz to life.

The range is like a smaller version of an airplane hangar, with targets of all shapes and sizes at the opposite end, and shelves full of bows and quivers near the door. The range was abandoned while it was halfway built, so the walls and ceilings are a criss-cross of beams, wood and concrete and plastic-covered wires, and the windows lining the sides have large, scratched-up, dusty glass that was meant to be replaced when construction finished. The ground is plain concrete covered in a layer of dust and grass that’s blown in from outside. 

It’s not the most glamorous archery range, especially compared to the house and gardens, but it was built with the intention of being jaw-dropping. Even when it was under construction and Bianca would sneak in to shoot a few, it would at least be clean and bright.

Now, it’s old and gathering dust. The only person who uses it is Frank when he comes by, but he prefers to shoot out in the open air, so it’s never really used. No one even bothers to lock it up. Nico’s waiting for the day his father cuts off the electricity supply to the light bulbs too. 

Will doesn’t seem to mind how neglected it is, though. His lips are parted as he walks into the center of the range and turns a slow circle. When he stops, he’s facing the targets at the far wall. “They’re so far away,” he exclaims. “Do you guys actually _hit_ the targets? You must be amazing at this. Even better than Kayla, I bet.”

“I don’t actually know how to shoot at all.”

“Hazel?” The light bulbs cast shining pools in Will’s eyes. “Your dad?”

Nico shakes his head. “The only person we know who shoots is Frank, and he doesn’t like to do it indoors, so this place,” he gestures around him, “is basically abandoned now.”

“Oh.” Will frowns. “Well, that’s not nearly as amazing.” He heads over towards the rack of bows and arrows. “So no one uses any of these?” He runs a finger down one carved bow, wiping away the thick layer of dust.

Nico presses a thumb to the hollow of his throat, trying to will away the painful lump there. “Not anymore.”

“But then,” Will studies the long shelves of weapons, the once-beautiful leather quivers. “Who was this built for?”

Nico sighs, takes a seat on one of the benches underneath the windows. He knew this question was coming. There’s no way around it. Maybe he _wanted_ to talk to Will about this. Why else would he have brought him here? He could’ve just not mentioned they had an archery range.

He’s made it such a rigid habit to keep it from people he meets that he doesn’t even think twice about it anymore. And now that he does… there’s no reason _not_ to tell Will. The guy isn’t perfect but Nico knows in his bones that he’ll be the easiest person to talk to about difficult things.

The bench creaks as Will sits down beside Nico. “You okay?” 

Nico’s palms are stinging. He opens his fingers and sees the half-moon shapes he’s dug into his skin. “I have a sister. An older one.”

“Oh. Is she at college?”

“No, she’s only two years older than me.” He tries to smile but it wobbles weakly. “Her name’s Bianca. She looks a lot like me – or at least, what I used to look like. She’s probably the smartest one in the whole family. Got straight As all throughout school. And she’s always been really talented. She took up archery when she was ten, and she was so passionate about it, Dad even got her a tutor. They used to shoot out in the garden but a few days before she turned eleven, Dad decided to make this place for her. It was abandoned mid-construction though. It wasn’t needed anymore.” He can’t quite meet Will’s eyes, so he focuses on his chin. It’s what people would call a butt chin, and that gives Nico’s smile some substance. Even Will’s chin cheers him up.

“That probably makes her sound very spoilt, but she wasn’t at all. She’d never really asked for anything before that. All the presents and toys she’d get, she’d give to me. The fact that she wanted Dad to build this for her – and that he did – well, to me, it’s proof of how good she was at shooting.” He falters, looks at the bulls-eyes in the distance. “How much better she could’ve gotten.”

“What happened?”

Nico sucks in a long breath. His fingers have started to shake already, and he really doesn’t want to lose his composure in front of Will. “She was stolen.”

He doesn’t need to look at Will’s face to know he’s surprised. “ _Stolen_?” Will asks.

“She didn’t always get along with our father. She was always asking about our mother and criticizing how he treated me. And he didn’t treat me badly, not at all. She was just really overprotective. She didn’t think Dad was a good enough parent.”

He chances a glance at Will’s face and it’s obvious he isn’t following at all. Despite his confusion, as soon as he sees Nico watching him, he nods and says, “I’m listening.”

“What I’m trying to say is that she was really, really…” he flounders for the right word. “ _Unsatisfied_ with her life. She was a perfect big sister to me, but then she and Dad would have those horrible fights, and she’d lock herself in her room or go out with her friends and we wouldn’t see her for days. Her archery and this range were one of the only things they could see eye-to-eye about. By the time she was twelve, she’d tried to run away four times. Dad had freaked out, of course, and the local police had been involved, but they’d always find her and bring her back. By the fourth time, it was obvious even the officers were getting fed up.”

He sighs and slumps against the wall. “I’d always feel so betrayed whenever she would leave. The fact that she never took me with her, that I was one of the things she was trying to run away from…” he turns to Will. “She was my hero. You don’t know how much that hurt.”

Will’s eyes are as shadowy as the sky outside. “I think I have an idea.”

“The worst thing is that I don’t think she meant any harm by running away. It wasn’t vindictive. She didn’t want to hurt me, or even our father. But she just… didn’t want to be with us anymore.” He rubs at his nose in an attempt to hide his watering eyes. “One day, when she was twelve and I was ten, she’d gone to a friend’s house and didn’t come back. When my father called their house, they said she’d told them she was going home two hours ago. But she never came home. Not then, not the next day.” He hugs his jacket closer into himself and closes his eyes. “Not ever.”

Beside him, Will shifts and the bench creaks. “Did you tell the police?”

“Of course. But they couldn’t find anything.”

“ _Nothing_? There must have been –“

“There was literally nothing to go on, Will.” Nico sits up and looks him in the eye. “No one remembered seeing a girl of her description. None of her friends knew where she might’ve gone. They checked all the places that she went to when she ran away, but there was no sign of her. It’s like she disappeared.”

Will frowns and his gaze flickers all over Nico’s face. “Do you think she ran away again?”

“I don’t…” Nico deflates. “I don’t know. There were no clothes missing from her room. No money missing from Dad’s wallet. She’d argued with Dad and threatened to run away, but then she _always_ did that. We put up fliers and asked around everywhere, but no one remembered seeing her on the streets or getting on a bus. She was on none of the CCTV cameras near the market area. No one had seen her since she’d left her friend’s house.” His eyes are stinging again. He has to bite his lip hard to keep the tears at bay. “The police told us she might try to contact us if she _had_ run away. We sat by the phone for weeks. There was never a call or message or letter. And eventually…” His breathing is becoming jagged. He knows what’s coming. “Everyone just gave up.”

The first tear spills from the edge of his eye. Nico tilts his head away so his bangs fall forward. “Now, Dad checks in on her open case every two or three weeks.” His voice is small and shaky, more like a whimper than anything else. “Our friends ask about her sometimes. I dream about her, and whenever I feel empty, I come here and cry.” He rubs his fists against wet eyelids. “Other than that, it’s like she never existed.”

“Nico…” The way Will says his name, soft and consoling, is what breaks the dam. He doesn’t even notice Will’s arms winding around him. The only thing he knows is the dampness of his tears soaking into Will’s shirt, his warm chest and gentle whispers, and the deep painful splintering of his heart.

He isn’t sure how long Will holds him as he cries in the lonely rundown building, but soon the tears have abated, Will’s T-shirt is soaked, and they’re just sitting there in each other’s arms.

Nico’s eyes feel swollen and sticky. He breathes in time with Will, stares at the bob of his Adam’s apple, the lines of his collarbone, the arch of his neck. Any other time, anywhere else, he would have been freaking out about being so close to Will, but right now, he feels exhausted. His heart feels paper thin, his bones feeble matchsticks. He wants nothing more than to stay here, in this moment. Shut his eyes, forget the world, and sleep.

But he knows he can’t do that. So he does the next best thing. He moves closer, buries his head in the crook of Will’s neck, and lets his anxieties drain out of his body with every breath of Will’s he can feel on his cheek. 

Just like he has for the past four years, he tries to forget.

~*~

“Do you think she died?”

Nico flinches and turns to gape at Will beside him. “What?” he almost snaps.

Will immediately seems to regret asking. They’ve been walking back to the house in comfortable silence for a while now, and whenever Nico has caught Will’s eye, Will’s given him a reassuring smile. Their hands brush, their shoulders bump, and the wind has started blowing, drying Nico’s tears and running through his hair. Despite the long crying jag, Nico feels … okay, if not happy.

This is definitely not the very first thing that should be coming out of Will’s mouth after all that.

Granted, he doesn’t sound off-hand when he says it, and there’s no smile on his lips this time. His brows are drawn down, his mouth is a grim line, and his shoulders are set. It’s more like a horrifying thought he blurted without meaning to, and now desperately regrets. It still doesn’t make it alright though.

“I’m so sorry,” Will says quickly, eyes wide and hands outstretched. “I just – I mean –“

Nico clenches his jaw. “She’s not dead, Will.”

Will stops in his tracks. “Is – is there proof of that?”

“I don’t need proof. I know she isn’t.”

“But…” Will frowns. “how?”

“I just do. I don’t know what happened to her – if she ran away or if someone took her – but I know she isn’t dead. She’s alive.”

“But Nico,” Will steps towards him, “you said she hasn’t contacted you all these years, so you have no proof –“

“That doesn’t mean she’s dead, Will. It just means she _can’t_ contact us. She…” A pulse of pain travels through his heart. Nico has to look away from Will and at the faint outline of the moon above. “As horrifying as it is to think about, whatever circumstances she’s in right now are _preventing_ her from calling us.” 

Will’s frown only deepens. “Nico, that’s not…” he shakes his head. “That’s not okay.”

“I _know_ it’s not okay, Will.” Nico steps forward and glares at him. “She’s my sister. I love her and I don’t want to think of her as being anything other than safe and happy. But the fact of the matter is that she’s alive but hasn’t called us to tell us that yet, so she obviously can’t. _Do_ you understand?”

Will stares at Nico with surprise, but still he opens his mouth, like he can’t let this go no matter how angry Nico gets. “But how…” he hesitates, licks his lips. “How do you _know_ , Nico?”

“Because I can see every dead person who comes to me, Will.” The tears are back, except now there’s anger behind them, not grief. Nico can’t tell is he’s sobbing or spitting. “If she were dead, she would come to me. But she hasn’t. So she _isn’t_.”

There’s no more confusion in Will’s brow, no more surprise in his lips. He stares at Nico, and Nico stares back, and even as he does, he can see Will’s expression softening from confusion into understanding, into pity. That hellish pity that not even Will Solace - the _easiest_ person to talk to about difficult things – can disguise. 

The cold rush of dread runs through Nico’s veins. He doesn’t want pity. He’s had enough pity to last him the rest of his life.

But he doesn’t let his glare waver, as if Will represents every person Nico’s ever hated, from the kid who kicks the back of his chair in English class to the person who took his sister away from him.

Finally, after what seems like years, Will exhales. Somehow, even through the whipping wind, Nico can feel it brush against his face. 

“I understand,” Will says.

His expression is carefully neutral, like he’s afraid of setting Nico off again. Nico hates that almost as much as the pity. He steps back out of Will’s space.

“Come on,” he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Let’s get back to the house, and then you can go home. Your mom will be worried.”

He starts walking and, after a beat, Will follows him. They don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so so so so sorry for the long wait on this one. i'll try to be quicker with the next chapters.  
> also, i'm sorry if there are some continuity errors! it's been a long time since i've gone over this story in my head and i can't read the past chapters without cringing internally, so there might be some mistakes. let me know and i'll fix them.  
> as always, thank you for reading and please comment below!


	10. Chapter 10

The sleek black car glides around the towering fountain that Will’s always found so obnoxious. It’s a statue of a bleached white half-naked man pointing an arrow up into the sky, with water spouting in every direction – obviously meant to mimic famous Greek sculptures. Hell, for all Will knows, it _is_ one of the famous Greek sculptures.

The driver parks the car in front of the portico and turns around to smile at Will, the creases in his ruddy cheeks deepening. “Welcome back home, Mr. Will.”

Will shoots him a weary smile in return. “It’s just Will, Mr. Goldstein.” _And this isn’t home._

He climbs out of the car and starts pulling out his luggage, but Mr.. Goldstein is already there, his crooked back hunching over and gnarled hands latching onto the handles of his suitcase. “Mr. Goldstein,” Will starts, “please don’t –”

“Oh, I’m not!” Mr. Goldstein laughs. He lugs out Will’s small suitcase and immediately hands it to a young man in a neat white shirt and black pants standing nearby. “Zeke is here to help.”

“Zeke!” Will’s face splits into a grin as soon as he spots him. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Where have you been?”

Zeke is twenty-three years old, dark-haired, brown-eyed, always smiling, and has worked in this house almost every weekend since Will’s been coming over, except for the last. Will isn’t exactly sure what his job requirement is – and calling him a _servant_ sounds a little crude – but all he needs to know is that he’s friendly and amazing at basketball. Will’s played more games in the basketball court with Zeke than with his own half-brother.

Zeke grins back and grabs Will’s hand, one hand on his shoulder. His handshake is warm, firm, and confident, just like him. Will would be lying if he said he hadn’t ever been attracted to him – Zeke started working here when Will was just shy of thirteen, and he was always blushing and stuttering around him. 

“Nice to see you too, Will,” he says amiably. “I’m sorry to have missed you last time. My mother fell ill.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, definitely better.Just a touch of the flu.” He yanks the suitcase up against one bulging shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you settled in then.”

He steps onto the clear marble steps of the portico, and Will follows after a wave goodbye to old Mr. Goldstein.

When Will told Nico his house reminded Will of his father’s, he wasn’t lying – but only in the sense that they were large, rich mansions. Nico’s home was a velvety dark color, wonderfully old-fashioned from the outside and perfectly modern on the inside. The wide grounds, the tall pillars, the mosaics – they were all beautiful in their simplicity. There were no gimmicks, nothing ostentatious. The family occupied half of the rooms in the house, and the others were free and bare of any clutter, because they were only using what they needed. 

Will’s father’s house is nothing like it.

The main building is as big as Nico’s eccentrically caged home, and the two smaller buildings – Kayla’s and Austin’s wings respectively – closely flank it. The whole house exudes gold and white – creamy imported stone, fitted gold light fixtures, caramel doors, and ivory balconies. Every room is centrally heated but as soon as Will steps into the foyer, he can feel the chill rising off of the cold marble, metal staircase railings and intricately carved bare walls. 

It has never felt like home, and not just because his father lives here.

Two curving staircases lead up onto the next floor and meet at the top, but Zeke tells Will that his father is busy at the moment, so they don’t go upstairs. They take a hallway to the right and pad across the elaborate dining room, past the door of the library, to Austin’s wing of the house. Along the way, they encounter a fair amount of workers like Zeke, some of whom Will knows, and all of whom greet him warmly. But Will has yet to see the housekeeper.

“Where’s Mrs. Bardell?” he asks Zeke, when they finally reach the airy entrance hall of Austin’s wing, which has a single grand staircase leading up to the first floor where almost all of Austin’s rooms are. “Usually she appears within five minutes of me being here.”

“A little mishap in Kayla’s sitting room.” Zeke throws a smile at Will over his shoulder. “She adopted yet another animal and didn’t tell anyone. A large Burmese cat. It shredded the curtains and upholstery in her sitting room.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Really?”

“Yes. She refuses to give it up.”

“Doesn’t she have enough cats by now?”

“Eight,” he grins, “but who’s counting?”

Will laughs. As much as he hates his father, this house and its grounds (including the pool, pet houses, tennis court, and basketball court), he doesn’t feel the same kind of animosity towards his half-siblings.

They aren’t self-involved and entitled like he would expect rich kids to be – just a little naïve and sheltered. He feels alternately jealous of and sorry for them, but mainly there’s just a stilted sensation of them being incomprehensible to him. There’s nothing in them that he thinks is familiar, nothing in their gestures or words or personality that he thinks he could truly relate to. They’re strangers to him.

“Will!”

They stop short and look up to the first floor, where Will’s half-brother Austin is practically hanging off the banister in excitement. His straight blond hair is smushed under a beanie, his freckled face adorned with a bright smile. He lets out a laugh, cries, “You’re here!” and then starts racing down the carpeted staircase.

Well, _Will_ thinks they’re strangers, but _they_ think the opposite. He’s as much a sibling to them as they are to each other, and to be completely honest, it scares Will a little.

Austin doesn’t slow down once he’s level with them. He barrels straight into Will and hugs the life out of him, as per usual. He only comes up to Will’s ear and seems to be one of those boys who could eat a horse but would still be almost skeletally thin. 

Like Nico.

A small smile plays on Zeke’s face as he watches them. Will rolls his eyes at him like _here he goes again_ and pats Austin’s back lightly.

“Okay, Austin,” he says with a long-suffering sigh, “what did I say about personal space?”

Austin leaps back. “Sorry!” he says, reaching up to fix his beanie. There’s a gap between his top two teeth when he grins. “I’m just so excited you’re back!”

“Only until tomorrow evening,” Will reminds him.

“But that just means we’ll have to fit in as much fun as we can in twenty-four hours!” Austin’s thin fingers close around his shoulders. “It’ll be a blast. Zeke, would you make sure Will’s stuff gets to his room?”

Zeke smiles at him indulgently, like Austin is a particularly cute hamster. “Of course I will.”

“Great!” Austin grabs Will’s wrist. “Come on. I want to show you all the new stuff I got for my birthday last week.”

“Oh, right,” Will says dully as Austin drags him up the stairs. “Your birthday.”

“I turned thirteen. I’m a teenager!” He stomps on the next stair triumphantly.

“Great.”

“You don’t have to apologize for not being there. I mean, I would’ve _loved_ for you to be there, obviously, but it’s okay.” They reach the landing and Austin’s eyes are eager and shining when he turns to Will. “I know you’re really busy with all your studies and internships and stuff. Your schedule is probably packed, huh?”

Will shifts in place and dodges his gaze. Talking about his future career with this family is always so awkward. All three of them act as if they’re so proud of him, like he could never do anything wrong. He thinks he might hate it coming from Austin the most, because of how young he is, so it’s like he’s parroting words his father’s fed into him. “Yeah, sure.”

Austin leads Will into his game room, the kind of place that makes someone like Will, who would probably have no use for it, burn with jealousy. The ceiling is low and fixed with panel lights and the floor is hardwood, bare except for a few bright rugs here and there. Three separate screens hover against the opposite wall and an illuminated group of shelves filled with game consoles and remote controllers lies underneath. A foosball table and a snack bar sit at one end of the room, and miniature pool and a TV screen with a music system beneath it at the other. 

Despite the clean-cut nature for which the room was probably assembled, it does belong to a newly-thirteen-year-old boy, so there are piles of his junk on the coffee tables and couches and in all corners of the room – CD cases, shoes and T-shirts, candy wrappers, and empty bottles of Coke. The room is littered with soccer balls, rugby balls, basketballs, and racquets. A door off to the side leads into Austin’s bedroom.

Austin practically skips over to the couch that faces his gaming system. “Look!” he cries, pointing.

Will ambles over. A large bright green skateboard with a black motif of a sharp-toothed monster lies nestled among the couch cushions. He can almost hear Austin holding his breath.

“It’s awesome,” Will comments, and Austin exhales in a great rushing sound.

“I know!” He drops to his knees beside the couch and runs reverent fingers on it. “I haven’t gotten the chance to ride it. It’s completely untouched.” He looks up at Will. “Can you teach me?”

Will blinks. “To ride a skateboard?”

Austin nods eagerly.

“I don’t know where you got the idea, Austin, but I don’t know how to ride one.”

“But could you get one of your cool skateboarder friends from your school to help? _Please_ , Will? None of my friends know how to ride either.”

Will shrugs, shoulders tensing again. “Can’t you ask Zeke? I’m sure he’d know how to.”

Austin sits back on his heels. “Zeke’s too busy. So are Rudy and Meyer and now you too.”

His lower lip pokes out infinitesimally, and his brows are drawn down over his blue eyes. Will hates how he feels guilty for it.

“Hey, I really don’t know about skateboarding but… maybe we could have a game of basketball later?”

Austin’s head snaps up and his expression instantly clears. “Yeah, definitely!” He jumps up, skateboard forgotten. “We’ll see who gets the most hoops.”

“And then maybe Zeke and I can play later.”

“Yeah, of course! I’m fine with three people. Although how would we divide –“

“No, I meant…” Will squirms. “I meant just me and Zeke. I haven’t seen him in ages, you know.”

There’s barely a second between Austin’s face falling and a forced smile taking its place. “Yeah, yeah!Whatever you want.”

“Great,” Will says, forcing his voice to sound bright. “So I’m going to go use the bathroom, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, sure,” Austin beams at him. 

When Will’s hand is on the doorknob, he speaks up again. “Will you sit next to me at dinner, Will?”

When Will turns to look at him, he’s staring at Will with wide blue eyes and his hands in his pockets, looking like a small child. Something inside Will clenches. “Sure,” he says, and then races out of the room without a glance back.

~*~

Will’s bedroom adjoins Austin’s and is almost as big. It’s nice enough, but doesn’t have large open windows that filter in sunlight like his room back home. He’s never mentioned the lack of natural light in this room to anyone, but it does still unsettle him. It’s one of many guest rooms in the house – there are more on Austin’s floor, but Will knows those are used by Austin’s school friends when they’re staying over.

No one ever stays in the one Will does. They say it’s because it’s Will’s room. It’s really not.

Zeke has unpacked most of Will’s suitcase, like he always does, and it’s lying in the corner of the room. His clothes are hanging in the closet, his pajamas lying on the bed, books on the desk and toiletries in the bathroom. Will hasn’t brought much else. He’ll be going back tomorrow evening anyway.

Will towels his face hard and then stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. His curls are messy and rough, his cheeks and nose pink where he’s dried them too roughly. There are lines underneath his eyes, probably due to lack of sleep. People tell him he looks like his mom, but even _more_ people tell him he’s the spitting image of his father, and he knows it. The freckles, the blond hair and blue eyes – they make him look just like Kayla, Austin and their dad.

Except he’s wearing ratty sneakers he bought last year. The jeans aren’t torn and frayed purposely. His T-shirt is old and faded and his phone used to be his mother’s. He might look like one of them, but he isn’t.

Sighing, he goes into the bedroom and collapses on the bed, mindful of his pajamas spread around underneath, and connects his phone to the strongest wifi signal. There are about five different wifi connections in here, and Will’s phone knows the passwords to all of them, so at least there’s _some_ advantage in coming here. He waits until his phone starts buzzing with messages and then eagerly flicks through them.

Messages from Lou Ellen, Cecil, his mom, and his chemistry lab partner… none from Nico.

He stares at the chat he has with Nico. The last things he sent him were two pictures and a web address to the Doe Network. 

In the middle of his sleepless night around six hours ago, as he’d lay in bed and strained his ears to pick out Jane Doe’s voice among the ruckus of all the others’, he had wondered if he should suggest to Nico to look Bianca up on the Network or NamUs. But when he’d broached the subject, Nico had lashed out like nothing Will had seen before. He knows now that Nico is too deep in denial about his sister’s probable death to ever search for her missing body online.

He’d wondered if he shouldn’t do it himself. He’d made himself familiar with the layout of both websites, and although he had no idea what Bianca had looked like when she went missing, he could at least try.

In the end, he hadn’t. It felt like a breach of the trust he and Nico had built up between each other, which he had probably now destroyed into nothing but animosity. 

He doesn’t want Nico to be any angrier with him than he already is. He’ll apologize as many times as he needs to, if only to see that smile again.

That doesn’t mean he’s changed his mind. He should’ve approached the subject differently, of course, but… How could Nico know that his sister has been missing for the past four years, and yet refuse the possibility of her being dead, all because he’s sure she would contact him if she is?

After all, neither of them know how exactly the ghosts find them. Maybe some of them can’t. Maybe Bianca couldn’t.

He drops his phone to the bed and presses his palms into his eyes, stares at the grey-white blobs behind his eyelids. A constant ache plucks at his heart whenever he’s thinks of him. More than anything else, there’s concern. All-encompassing, unreserved concern. He doesn’t have to be a psychologist to understand that Nico’s denial is his way of coping with everything, that some part of him _must_ know that there is a very large possibility of her being dead. 

But it isn’t healthy, is it? No, it can’t be healthy at all.

He doesn’t want to push him into accepting it, but he doesn’t know what else to do. Up until now, he’d assumed – for whatever reason – that Nico was like every other person he knew. People who have both minor and major problems in their lives, but nothing so horrifying that it could potentially traumatize them. Will loves to complain about his life, but just like everyone else, he knows it’s a good life. He knows he has more to be thankful for than not.

Nico isn’t like that. He’s fourteen – only a year older than Austin – and he’s already been through so much. Will’s always noticed how Nico and Hazel both walk like they carry a heavy weight on their shoulders, but he involuntarily always chalked it up to teenage angst. He had no idea.

He remembers a few months ago, during another one of these Dad Weekends, when his father introduced him to a psychiatrist, who asked Will if he had any interest in treating the mind rather than the body. “Fixing something wrong with someone’s body is a tricky thing to do, of course, but the mind is even worse. Each one is different, equally complex, and can destroy a person from inside out.”

Will had thought _then_ he knew what the man had been talking about. But now, it’s a completely different story.

He has no idea how to be with Nico now – if he should be gentle or as he was before, if he should tackle this head-on or if Nico would like it better if they pretend nothing ever happened.

But he _does_ know he hates this radio silence. He stares at their chat for a few seconds before typing out a message.

**Will:** see Jane yet?

A few second pass, during which Will chews his lower lip raw. Nico sees the message, and then neglects to reply. Ignoring the pang of rejection, Will sends another one.

**Will:** I haven’t heard from her. Plenty of others though. Do you want to take on some-ghost else?

Nico _does_ reply to this one. Granted, it’s a short ‘no’, but it’s an improvement. And it makes Will smile, even if it probably means Nico’s still angry with him. He can practically feel Nico’s dark-eyed glare in those two small letters.

**Will:** ok. But if anything happens, let me know. I’m so bored here at my dad’s :(

There’s no response. Refusing to be disheartened, Will turns up his phone’s volume to the loudest and waits for Nico.

He’s flipping through one of the books he brought along when there’s a knock on the door at Zeke pokes his head in. “Hey, Will. Your father wants to see you in his study.”

~*~

Everyone in this family is a hugger, including Will’s father. Will’s starting to miss Nico’s no-touching policy.

“I’m so glad you’re back!” his dad says, flashing his bleached white teeth at Will. “How is your mom? How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“Look at you, you’ve gotten taller!” He slaps his hands down on Will’s shoulders and shakes him.

Will winces. “That tends to happen sometimes.”

“Come and sit, come on.” He pushes Will towards his desk, and Will collapses into one of the chairs in front of it. Instead of sitting behind the desk, his dad takes a seat beside him. “You look great, dude! Excited to be back?”

Will barely keeps himself from rolling his eyes. It’s the same routine during every Dad Weekend. Being overly friendly and touchy-feely and acting like Will doesn’t come by every other week. It’s ridiculous.

His dad is ridiculous too. No one who ever set eyes on Mr.. Solace would think he was a doctor. Six feet, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed, blond, tanned so deeply Will sometimes wonders if there’s a tanning bed somewhere in the house – he looks less like a surgeon who works sixty hours a week and more like a professional male model.

The worst thing is that he both acts and looks much younger than he is. Will’s mom isn’t exactly old, but it aggravates him to no end that his father looks younger than her. Which, you know, he _is_ , but only by three years or so. His father seems a decade younger, which Will takes _extremely_ personally, even though he knows he’s being irrational.

Frankly, it’s the acting-youngerpart that’s particularly embarrassing. He’s wearing a tighter T-shirt and jeans than Will is. Will’s heard the words _dude_ , _cool,_ and _awesome_ from his dad more than his friends, and he insists that everyone other than his kids call him Apollo. Will’s sure he wouldn’t mind even if his kids _did_ start calling him Apollo. 

At least he never says _hip_ and _groovy_ like Lou Ellen’s dad, and doesn’t try to get Will to moonwalk with him.

Lou Ellen’s dad is the best.

“Yeah, you know,” Will slouches in the chair and shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see Zeke again. And Mrs. Bardell too.”

“Oh yeah, she was dealing with some crisis of Kayla’s.” He shakes his hand dismissively. “That girl and her obsession with animals. She’ll never learn.”

He says it less like a reproachful father and more like a bemused brother. He even slaps his knee as he laughs. Will would choose Austin’s hero worship over this a million times over.

“Yeah, Zeke told me. Are you keeping the cat?”

“Well, of course. The more, the merrier. It’s not like we’re running out of space anytime soon. In fact,” he leans forward and ruffles Will’s curls, “it seems a little empty in this house with just the three of us.”

“And half a dozen staff,” Will adds, squeezing his eyes shut against the faint twinges of pain when his father tries to extricate his hands out of Will’s rough tousled curls and pulls a few blond strands out while he’s at it. Not for the first time, Will wishes his hair was as silky-smooth as Nico’s.

His dad pretends not to notice. “You know what I mean. What do you say?” He punches Will’s arm lightly. “Austin and Kayla would love it if you moved in, and you and I could spend more time together.”

He stares at Will with twinkling blue eyes. Will is loath to say it, but his father has the nicest blue eyes out of anyone he’s ever met. He doesn’t know if it’s because his tan skin sets them off nicely, or if his constant white smile seems to make them shine, but it’s true.

His father is good-looking, friendly, talented and smart, just like Kayla and Austin. And he hates it.

“I know,” Will says blankly, “I’m just not sure I would.”

His smile falters just the tiniest bit, and Will can’t help but internally rejoice. “Maybe you’ll change your mind someday, huh?” he says hopefully.

Will shrugs. 

“Okay, well,” he rubs his hands idly on his jeans, “what do you want to do today? I could take you kids out for dinner. Play some tennis, maybe – have a little sing-along. Oh, we have a new orthopedic surgeon at the hospital – Ian’s taking his practice abroad.” He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Can you believe it? To England.The idiot.” He flips out his phone. “I could call the new surgeon over for you – he’s a really good guy, if a little hard on the eyes –“

Will stops him. “I really don’t want to do much this time. Just, you know, take it slow.”

His dad blinks. “But you came late, and you’ll be leaving tomorrow. That already cuts our time by half. Don’t you want to squeeze in as much –“

“No. No, thanks.” He pushes himself up off the chair. “I’m actually kind of hungry right now, so –“

“Of course!” His father jumps up. “Lunch!” He reaches over and presses a button molded into the desktop. A young woman knocks the door and pops her head into the room.

“Leah, please tell Mrs. Bardell to start setting the table for lunch, and tell Kayla and Austin to come down.”

“Uh, but,” she glances between them, “lunch isn’t for another hour.”

“We’ll just have to speed things up.” He presses a firm hand onto Will’s shoulder and shakes him a bit, looking at him with bright eyes. “My son is hungry.”

~*~

Will sits next to Austin, just like he promised, but when Kayla comes into the lavish dining room, she takes one look at Will, smiles widely, and sits next to him too. It leaves the other side of the table completely empty.

Their father laughs from the head of the table, where he’s casually reclining into the soft gold cushions of the chair and asking Mrs. Bardell to please bring him a separate gravy boat.

“Kayla,” Austin snaps, leaning over Will. “Sit next to Dad.”

She glares back. “I want to sit next to Will.”

“ _I’m_ sitting next to him.”

Will pushes his chair back. “I’ll go.”

“No!” Kayla shoots up out her seat at the same time that Austin throws an arm out and traps Will in. “I’m going.”

She stomps around the table, glowering at her brother the whole time, and pointedly sits across from Will. Faster than Will can blink, she’s whipped out her phone and is pushing it under his nose. 

“Look at my new cat, Will! I just got him yesterday, and he’s in the pet houses with the other cats now. Isn’t he adorable?”

Will stuffs his mouth with honey-glazed steak as Kayla swipes over pictures of a plump copper-colored cat with angry eyes and heavy whiskers. It’s lying in Kayla’s arms, perched on top of her four-poster bed, or stretched across the sofa. In one picture, it’s staring in defeat at a frowning Mrs. Bardell.

Will glances up to look at Mrs. Bardell, who is poking Austin between the shoulder blades and telling him to finish off his plate. When she catches Will’s eye, he points to Kayla’s screen and grins, and she glares sternly back.

Will loves Mrs. Bardell. She’s small in every sense of the word, and has the most adorable wrinkled and perpetually pinched-up face. She’s snappy and angry all the time, but Will knows it’s just a front for how much she cares. She thinks of Kayla and Austin as her kids, and is always fussing over Will when he comes over.

Now that he thinks about it, she reminds him of Nico in some ways.

“He’s cute,” Will says to Kayla. “What are you going to name him?”

“I don’t know.” Her face lights up. “Do you want to?”

Austin gasps so hard a piece of lettuce flies out of his mouth. “You never let _me_ name any of your pets!”

Kayla rolls her eyes. “Because you’ll come up with _stupid_ names.Will won’t.”

Will makes eye contact with Mrs. Bardell as she’s setting down the butter, and smirks. “How about Mittens?” he asks.

Kayla stares at him. For a second, Will thinks she’s going to indulge him, but instead she says, “I change my mind.”

Will has to press his fingers against his mouth to keep from laughing. Mrs. Bardell’s lips twitch for a fraction of a second, and then pull back into a disapproving frown.

Kayla is the easiest to get along with out of the three of them. She’s fourteen and extremely athletic, with long gold curls that she always pulls into a messy high ponytail, freckles and sunspots everywhere, and probably has about the same fat-to-muscle ratio that Zeke does. She’s tanned, but it doesn’t seem fake like it does with his father, maybe because she has quite noticeable tan lines across her elbows and collarbones.

She plays soccer, lacrosse, tennis, and takes gymnastics too. Will knows she was a ballerina when she was younger, and that’s probably the toughest activity out of all of them. Most of all, though, she shoots. Her private school prides itself on its archery classes, competitions and trophies, and Kayla Solace is the jewel of their crown. 

She’s told Will that she has some problems in the academics part of school, and she seems to have a bit of an inferiority complex because of it – probably exacerbated by the fact that Austin is a grade-A student and their father is a surgeon who graduated top of his class. Even Will has never gotten lower than a B. He doesn’t think her stupid because of that, though. It only makes her more human to him.

She has the same unwavering admiration for him that Austin does, except at a smaller, more tolerable scale. She’s more confident than her brother, so she isn’t always scrambling for Will’s approval, and she jokes with and pokes fun at Will now and then too.

Nevertheless, any camaraderie Will’s ever had with her has been forced on both their parts – Kayla’s out of eagerness, and his out of faint pity. He feels fidgety and uncomfortable whenever Austin looks at him with big adoring eyes, but he feels that tenfold whenever he laughs at something Kayla has said and sees her smiling like she’s mentally patting herself on the back.

The conversation at the table has turned from a hiking trip Austin’s grade is taking soon to Kayla’s latest archery tournament. “I’m going to have to start putting in a lot more practice now,” she says.

“Remember to eat and drink enough too,” Will’s dad says, pointing at her with his fork. “You’re going to be sweating under the hot sun the whole time. Lots of water, that’s what I always found the most important.”

“I _know_ , Dad, I am. My pee is so diluted these days.”

Austin squeals out a loud “ _Ewwww!_ ” and Kayla turns red, throwing a horrified glance Will’s way.

Will takes pity on her and moves his attention elsewhere: to his phone. Nico hasn’t messaged him back, but he’s clearly participating in the group chat he’d added Will to a few days ago. Even as Will watches, he’s sending laughing emojis at something Frank’s said. It feels like a slap in the face. 

“Oh my god, Will,” Kayla says all of a sudden, kicking him lightly under the table to get his attention. “My friends and I heard from Drew Tanaka at your school that you have a _boyfriend_?”

As soon as the words spill out of her mouth and into his ears, Will’s heart trips into overdrive. He looks around at the table, his face feeling suddenly cold.

“A boyfriend?” His father winks at Will. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker, Will, just like your dad.”

“What’s his name?” Austin bounces in his seat.

Oh no. Will can feel the horror and shock on his own face. He looks from Kayla to his father to Austin. All three of them look back at him with identical beaming grins, as if nothing in the world could be better than their local gay relative finding someone miserable enough to date him.

“Um…” A flush starts slowly creeping up his face, leaving itching skin behind. “Yeah, I kind of have one. His name is, uh…”

His high school already thinks he and Nico are together, and if students from his school are telling Kayla, it wouldn’t do any good to lie. He just hopes Nico doesn’t hate him for spreading the news around even more.

“Nico,” he says, defeated. “Nico di Angelo.”

“Ooh, Italian,” Kayla claps her hands. “Does he have an accent?”

There has always been a soft lilt to Nico’s words, something almost melodic that he always thought of as purely belonging to Nico and Nico alone. “Not a very noticeable one,” he tells Kayla.

“What do his parents do?” Will’s dad asks. “Have I met them?”

“I don’t think so. His dad is a judge. I don’t know about his mom.” He shifts in his seat. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Oh, he’s being bashful,” Kayla says gleefully.

“Don’t worry, Will, I’ll help you with any relationship problems you might have,” his dad declares. 

“You’ve been married like three times, Dad,” Austin points out.

“But they were all great relationships! For a while.”

“Will you bring him over to meet us, Will?” Austin beams at him.

Will frowns. “Why would I do that?”

“To meet the family, of course!”

Will stares at them. “I… no, I don’t –” he shakes his head. “He’s already met Mom, so.”

Austin’s bright expression wavers. “Oh.” He turns to his sister and father, who both gaze at Will with dull disappointed eyes. “Oh.”

Will looks away. “Yeah. So I –”

His phone rings.

He almost upends the plate in his haste to get it out, chanting _please let it be Nico_ in his head as he unlocks it. It is.

**Nico:** I saw her.

He doesn’t say anything else. He isn’t even typing anything. Will rushes out a reply.

**Will** : When??? What happened?

**Nico:** can I call you?

He stares at the phone. “May I be excused?” he asks.

Kayla and Austin aren’t looking at him. His father’s smile is frozen in place. “You’ve barely eaten anything,” he says.

Yes, and he’s starving. Luckily, he bought a power bar with him, and if he’s lucky, Mrs. Bardell will sneak him something. He shrugs. “I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to take a nap.”

“But I wanted to shoot with you for a while,” Kayla says, peeking up at him.

“I thought I could play you one of the songs I wrote.” Austin pokes at his potato.

“We’ll do all of that in a while okay? I’ll be down in an hour or two.” He stands up. “Tell Mrs. Phelan and Maisie the food was amazing.”

Then he rushes out of the room and down the hallway towards Austin’s building.

~*~

“She disappeared five minutes ago,” Nico tells him. He talks quickly, quietly, voice shaking the slightest bit. 

Will stands next to his window and watches Mr. Goldstein help Austin’s music teacher, a young thirty-something man with a guitar slung across his back, out of the car. “Where are you?”

“Out with Hazel and Reyna. Will, I looked up and she was _right there_ , sitting across from me next to Reyna. I just about jumped out of my skin.”He laughs unsteadily. “I’m standing outside. I told them I needed some air. I don’t think they believed me.”

“That’s okay.” He bites his lip. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure myself. She followed me out and then I started asking her questions, hoping she would give me some indication of yes or no. But it’s so hard to look at them, Will – they blur the more you try to focus, and when they move it’s either in slow motion or really fast.” He sighs. “I can’t explain it very well.”

“Don’t worry about that, Nico. Did you tell her to come to me?”

“Yeah, over and over. I took out my phone and showed her the entry about her on the websites. I kept asking her if she looked like the picture, and if everything that they’d written was true. But she just kept _staring_ at me.” His voice goes low with frustration. “It’s no good without you.”

Will knows he’s only talking about their family-owned ghostwhispering business, but his heart still warms. “I’m glad. That you miss me, I mean.”

There’s a pause. “I never said I missed you.”

The words are meant to be cutting, Will knows, but Nico says it with no conviction and a little weariness. He’s reached that middle ground between being angry at Will but hiding it and forgiving Will but hiding it.

Will thinks he might finally be starting to decipher Nico di Angelo.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I never should have said what I did last night. I’m tactless and stupid and…” He thinks of the hurt on Austin’s face and sighs, “And I don’t care about people much. I think I might be half-robot.”

“That’s okay. Sometimes you have to be half-robot to protect yourself, I think.” He pauses for a second. “I forgive you.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t – don’t bring it up again, okay? It’s kind of a sore spot for me.”

Will’s heart sinks. “Gotcha,” he says, injecting fake brightness into his voice, “No picking at Nico’s sores.”

“Gross,” Nico says, and then he laughs. It’s a genuine, ringing laugh. Will knows the phrase _music to my ears_ is just a turn of phrase, but like many things with Nico, he’s found cause to rethink that.

“Will, she tried to touch me.”

Will blinks, smile dropping off his lips. “Jane?”

“Yeah.” Nico is suddenly sober, talking so quietly Will has to strain his ears to hear it. “She tried to touch my face. I don’t think ghosts need eyes to see. She stared at me and came close and then tried to touch my cheek.” He draws in a ragged breath and now Will understands why he sounds so shaken. It feels unbearably intimate when a ghost talks right in his mind, like someone’s reached inside his chest and started poking at the delicate arteries of his heart. He can’t imagine what it would be like to actually be _touched_ by one.

“What did it feel like?” he breathes.

“I don’t know. She never got to do it. They can’t touch me. They start dissolving whenever they come near living things – animals or humans. Maybe even plants. I’ve seen people walk right through them. They disappear in the air like smoke, and the people just shiver a little bit.”

Will frowns. Somehow, that’s the saddest thing he’s heard today. “Oh.”

“But the thing is, Will – the thing is that she _tried_. None of them ever try. I don’t know if it’s because they know it won’t work or because it hurts them somehow but they never try. She did.” 

His voice is trembling. Will’s fingers dig into the windowsill. “She’s probably lonely, Nico,” he says softly. “And she knows you want to help her. It’s how she’s trying to thank you.”

“I’m not sure. I think –” He cuts himself off and then sucks in a deep breath of air. “I don’t know. It’s so strange.”

He murmurs something else that sounds a little like _so familiar_ , but Will suspects he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, so he doesn’t ask.

There’s silence on the line for a while. Will’s eyes trace the water spouting from the fountain below, the bowed backs of the gardeners hard at work on the flowers. He wonders what Nico’s looking at.

“We have to find out who killed her,” Nico says. “No matter what it takes. Tell all the others to stand in line and shut up. This is important.”

Will thinks of Nico’s missing sister, of the way he’d looked at Jane Doe at the morgue, the defiant way he’d said _If she were dead, she’d come to me_ , and thinks that he’s sinking fast. He thinks of the sweep of his fingers, the glitter of his eyes, the one time they’d awkwardly held hands, and knows he’ll go down with him.

The sky is startlingly blue, the color of his father’s eyes. “No matter what it takes,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to my new beta, tumblr user sheikthesheikahwarrior. i need all the help i can get with this fic and she caught mistakes i didnt even think about.  
> i know this chapter didn't have much in the way of plot but i wanted to focus on introducing will's family. thank you for reading and let me know what you thought!


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